


All Five Nights.

by Ultraaaa



Category: FNAF, Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Five Nights at Freddy's 1, Five Nights at Freddy's 2, Five Nights at Freddy's 3, Five Nights at Freddy's 4, Five Nights at Freddy's AR: Special Delivery, Five Nights at Freddy's: Help Wanted, Five Nights at Freddy's: Security Breach, Five Nights at Freddy's: Sister Location, Five Nights at Freddy's: Ultimate Custom Night, Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria Simulator | Five Nights at Freddy's 6, Gen, IM GONNA ADD MORE AS I GO ALONG BUT LIKE.... THIS IS AN AU PLS DONT HURT ME, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 44
Words: 78,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22870006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ultraaaa/pseuds/Ultraaaa
Summary: The Fazbear Legacy keeps coming back, again, and again, and again.CHAPTER CONTENT;Chapters 1: Prologue.Chapters 2 - 7: The Bite of '83 arc.Chapters 8 - 14: Missing Children arc / FNaF 2.Chapters 15 - 19: Funtime arc / FNaF: SL.Chapters 20 - 24: Fantasy & Fun arc / FNaF 1.Chapters 25 - 30: Fright arc / FNaF 3.Chapters 31 - 36: Nightmare arc / FNaF 4.Chapters 37 - 41: Connection arc / FFPS.Chapters 42 - ??: Layered Hell arc / UCN.Updates every Sunday at 7 PM BST.(( This is a canon-divergent timeline, the details are a smidgen fuzzy but trust me- I'm doing my best to keep things as coherent and clear as possible, if you have any questions, please shoot me a comment or direct yourself to prizecornerz on tumblr, I'm happy to answer! ))
Comments: 60
Kudos: 64





	1. PROLOGUE: Oct 31st, 1981.

Halloween night was always anticipated in the small town of Hurricane. One of the best times of the year next to Christmas and Easter-- one that was always gave out the thrill between young children all around the small town; restaurants held Halloween parties, so did schools should they be opened for the day.

Fredbear’s was often commented to be one of the best diners who offered Halloween parties-- the children all know, especially the owners’ children, close as can be with their father and uncle, having each other’s backs with whatever comes their way.

Or so Delancy thought-- the young eleven year old was the oldest of her siblings under one of the owners, Henry Coriander. She loved her father, and her mother, she really, truly did, she felt the same for her aunt and uncle-- and she loved her younger siblings too. Gregory, eight years old and full of life, and the twins-- Charlotte and Samuel, three years old, sweet and sour, the adults would say-- but she adored them.

Then there was her uncle, William-- he had three children, all of which she was close to at varying degrees, Michael, who’s the same age as her, in her class, though different cliques, they were still very close, and then there was William’s twins-- Elizabeth, bright as the sun and fiery in nature, and Joshua-- more reclusive, gentle at the core, a real crybaby.

Delancy really did love her tight-knit family, they were all so close, and they were all nice to each other-- there was nothing that could go wrong for them.

So why? Why did Michael’s friends shove her out into the cold, dark rainy night? Fists pound on the door, the girl’s desperate plea to be let back into the warmth resonating in the dark of the night-- what time was it? 9 PM? She wasn’t sure, she didn’t know, please let her back in, it’s cold and damp and it’s pouring down--

Knees buckle, Del falls against the door for a moment, hiccuping and heaving as salty tears mix with natural rain, “Please, please…”

_Please let me back in--_

“Delancy?”

\--She knew that voice, she pushes herself up against the door, pushing away from it as she spins around to see him-- tall, purple shirt getting drenched in the rain much like her-- her throat burns as she sniffled, and Delancy throws herself at him, breaking off into sobs again.

“Uncle Will!” She breathed, “Rick an’ the others-- they locked me out--” She whispered, small hands bunching up violet fabric as she buried her face into his shirt, shoulders shaking, the man’s hand rubs her back as he gave a little sigh, “Did they, now..?” He murmured, eyes becoming half-lidded, “I should really speak to Mike about those lot..” He pats her head, and glances to the door, “I don’t… think I can unlock the door.” He observed quietly, before turning his head down to the nearby alleway, “I can let you back in through there, then we can get dry.”

Delancy blinks once, blinks twice-- before giving a small nod, “O… okay.” She stated, grabbing his hand, “Let’s go--” She mumbled, and the man gave a nod, leading her down the alley.

It was dark. It was dark, and cold-- and Delancy was none the wiser to the man next to her, her dear uncle, whose purple eyes watched her every move, every step down the cobblestone path.

Her dear uncle Afton, who back-stabbed her and left her to die in that alley, it was painful, so painful, she was pushed down, beginning to scream and cry for someone to hear-- he covered her mouth, he stabbed her. Again. And again.  **And again.**

She hears him pull away once his work was done, she feels him pluck something from her chest-- her pin, her precious pin that the girl cherished so, so much. She hears tires on tarmac, someone’s car pulling away-- her senses go numb, she goes numb.

Delancy closes her eyes, giving a final breath as something mechanical and monotone crawled her way.

Then she wakes up anew, a puppet on strings. A puppet made to protect.

And protect she will as she bears witness to her father grieving her mortal coil’s death.

  
**MARIONETTE MODEL 01 is online.**


	2. Five days until the party.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joshua Afton is a scared young boy.

Joshua was so scared.

Very, very scared. Everything was wrong, everything was so, very wrong, and Joshua didn’t like it-- Joshua didn’t feel safe.

He hasn’t felt safe since Delancy went away two years ago, those two years were hell on Earth, to him-- the bullying became relentless, the testing became relentless, everything became far too much for young Joshua.

He pulls his knees to his chest as he sits on his bedroom floor, wide brown eyes watching the door-- he couldn’t escape his room, he couldn’t get out, he knew this-- he knew trying to call for help was futile.

Michael got crueler and crueler to him by the day, it appears, and Joshua could not do a thing about it-- his friends were the same, he was but prey to a group of predators far larger than him-- all he had was Elizabeth to fall back on, bless her heart-- but even then she couldn’t do much, she was probably pleading with their father to let her near the new Funtime Line he has in development-- robots made specifically for them, but he knew better.

Those things were probably flawed, somehow. Much like his toys, much like--

_ “What did he do this time?” _ Comes a soft ( almost familiar ) voice from his bed.

There it was, his dearest friend, one of his only friends-- Psychic Friend Fredbear, Josh took a sharp breath, and a pale, thin hand reaches up to wipe his eyes, “He… he--”

_ “He locked you in your room again.” _ The plush observed, there’s a moment of silence, before his voice comes back, _ “Don’t be scared. I am here with you.”  _ An attempt to comfort-- one that works, Joshua gives the plush on his bed a small smile.

Bruised knees shift-- the young boy gets up, makes his way to his desk to write something out-- and he folds, the plush toys in his room seem to observe, even if one lacked a head-- as he forms something out of his message, before he unlocks his window and pulls it up, sending it out.

Now he waits, he turns to the group of plushies in his room, watching them quietly. His best friends. Though tattered and torn, they were still his. Joshua mused for a moment-- he should probably try to fix Foxy’s head soon… it would be nice, and it could pass the time, couldn’t it?

It could pass the time whilst he was locked away from the world, in his room without anyone in his family to come save him. All he had to do was play the waiting game, for the sake of his sanity, so he could be safe from any dangers--

Knock knock knock. Joshua looks up, patient, waiting, listening.

Knock knock.

Knock knock knock… knock.

Joshua smiles, his hands fidget as he sees the door’s lock shuffle for a moment-- and then click, it opens slowly, and a boy a year older than him ( pitch black eyes and a calm smile ) greets him, the boy gets excited.

“Greg.” The boy breathed, running over to him-- grabbing him by the arm, “Thank you.”

_ “It’s no problem,” _ the blonde murmured back to the brunette,  _ “you’re my friend, after all.” _

Friend. The word warms his heart, Greg gives him a light nudge,  _ “C’mon, I’m takin’ you to dad’s, right? Since the fox furry might come back?” _

The younger boy nods, and Gregory guides him out.

The golden plush on the bed watches after them, quiet, before it uttered something softly.

  
_ “...Tomorrow is another day…” _

And another day it will be.


	3. Four days until the party.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Afton residence was not a nice place.

It was happening again. The same day, the same scenario-- in his room with the toys and no one else, but there was one thing that was different between today and yesterday, a difference which made Joshua more nervous, brown eyes had focused on it.

The door was unlocked, there was someone still inside the house-- and he knew exactly who it was. But at the same time… a part of him hoped it was maybe his father or twin, or even Gregory, bringing his younger cousin over for at least some comfort to Joshua.

Joshua gave a soft wheeze, barely breathing as he notices the golden plush look to him.

_ “You know he is hiding again.” _ He spoke, tone soft as the boy covered his mouth to cough, closing his eyes, “I… I don’t wanna play hide an’ seek…” He murmured, voice weak as he pressed down the urge to cry.

_ “He won’t stop until you find him.” _ The bear countered, his eyes flick to the door,  _ “Over there.” _

Over where? Joshua didn’t know, but he had to find out, he moves around the room for a moment, looking at everything before he sighed, did he really have to leave the safety of his room--?

He remained silent, and pushed the door open, entering the hallway-- he looked around, eyes narrowing slightly despite his terror-- he had to do this. This much he knew. Even if… his brother would make fun of him.

Joshua moved, checking out his twin’s room first ( it was pretty dang pink, that’s for sure ), he couldn’t see Michael-- not with how Elizabeth’s room was. He’d be able to easily see him.

His eyes flick to the floor where the busted Funtime Foxy model was, Lizzie really was obsessed with the Funtime Line… he didn’t mind the obsession all that much, even if he wasn’t fond of them.

Joshua shifted away from the room, wandering down the hall towards the main area of the house-- the living room, it was a simple place, a couch and a TV to watch things on, Joshua liked the shows on there, he tends to watch them whenever he was alone and not in the line of fire from Michael and his cronies.

The living room was not safe at all today, the air was different, and Joshua walked towards the TV--

\--Only to hear a recorded scream and for a teen with a Foxy mask to jump up from behind the device, Joshua let out a scream of his own, knees buckling as he hits the floor, eyes wide, starting to tear up.

Michael laughs at him from behind the mask, and the younger brother hiccupped, blinking hard as he hears footsteps rush into the house, he sees a blonde blur fling herself at the taller boy, fists batting against his chest.

Josh steadies himself, turning his head to look at the sight fully, Elizabeth, his older twin, cursing and telling off their brother for such a cruel trick, out of the corner of his eye does he see his golden plush, watching, it mouths something to him.

_‘Tomorrow is another day.’_

He sighs as his father finally walks through the front door to break up the one-sided fight.

Joshua hopes tomorrow is better.


	4. Three days until the party.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fredbear's wasn't safe.

Fredbear’s was scary when he was alone. Joshua didn’t like it-- it was small, overcrowded and not to mention how Delancy had been found in the alley right next to it, not breathing, not alive. Gregory wasn’t allowed near this place after it, neither were Charlotte and Samuel-- at least their aunt Amity was allowed to be here, and her infant daughter.

Joshua loved playing with the toddler, Amity would watch them-- she’d sometimes look between them with a weird stare, Joshua didn’t exactly mind it at all, really. He loved little Norah so much. Wispy brown hair and unnaturally purple eyes-- nothing like her mother, blonde and brown eyes. He found it weird, but Gregory told him Norah most likely looked more like her daddy.

Joshua never met Norah’s daddy. Amity says he doesn’t know about the baby. Sometimes some of the other kids mistake them for siblings-- Joshua was the youngest in his family, he had no younger siblings. But… it felt very nice to be considered a big brother.

There was also that security puppet in the box by the entrance, they were nice-- they whispered to him sometimes, spoke about happy times and tried to keep him placated-- like the mother he never really got to have. Joshua liked that.

They made Fredbear’s a better place for him, but they weren’t here today, it was just him, curled up on the cold carpet with the golden plush in his arms, crying.

He was alone, and the plush only reaffirmed this.

_ “He left without you again.” _ He observed, Joshua sucked in a breath, giving a feeble nod, a soft ‘mmhm’ escaping him, a stubby hand brushes his fringe to the side as he looked to the plush,  _ “He knows that you hate it here. You are right beside the exit.” _ The toy whispered to him,  _ “If you run, you can make it.” _ Joshua blinked at the plush, and moved his head-- he can see the red doors from where he was, and he shifted himself to sit up-- and then stand.

_ “Hurry, run toward the exit.” _ The plush urges him, and Joshua takes a few hobbling steps towards the door--

**“Hey, aren’t you the boss’ kid..?”** Oh,  **_no_ ** , he sees gold, he sees purple-- he cranes his neck to look up at the bear now blocking the door, going paler than he usually was.

_ “It’s too late.” _ The plush started, his own tone of panic seeping in,  _ “Hurry the other way-- find someone who will help! You know what will happen if he catches you--!” _ He pleads, and Joshua turns on his heel and runs.

Out of the corner of his eye does he vaguely see his father in the back room, placing a mask on a small child in a suit. Joshua ignored it, it wasn’t important.

He sees the shadows of his worst fears on the walls-- the light on the stage illuminating the main attraction, Joshua doesn’t want to look at them, they were tall, terrifying and intimidating.

_ “You can find help if you get past them.” _ The plush comments, placing a small stubby limb on his hand,  _ “You have to be strong.” _ He comforts, Joshua nods, and begins heading further down.

Joshua trips, he hits the floor and sobs as the bear looms over him, the funny purple band around his wrist beeps once, beeps twice, and he hears something shift at the entrance-- the bear is talking to something, and it moves to the side as monochrome striped arms pick him up.

The plush watches the Security Puppet with an air of knowing smugness, blue eyes stare down back at him, they both knew-- but neither of them said a thing.

_ “Tomorrow is another day.”  _ The plush spoke the mantra to the little boy as Joshua slips off into faintness, the Marionette never shifting before a voice leaves it-- one that made the plush give a little giggle.

“Everything will be okay, Josh…”

  
**Delancy** will do her best to make sure of it.


	5. Two days before the party.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Were things ever really the same since '81? Joshua wasn't sure.

It was like being on loop.

There he was again, alone in the establishment, curled up underneath a table with the plush in his arms, crying to himself, Elizabeth was in dance class today-- she couldn’t come home with him, and Michael left him there again today on purpose.

What did he do to deserve this? He wanted to ask his brother this question-- he wanted to know, he wished to know why he’s being pushed through this torture. He was alone in this and the only people he could fall back on at the moment weren’t here or weren’t  _ allowed _ here-- he hated it so damn much.

_“...He hates you.”_ The plush finally spoke, Joshua sniffled, rubbing his eyes, “I know, I know.” He responded, breath hitching over his words, it was the truth in his eyes-- that’s it, that’s all it was. Why does he keep trying?

_“You have to get up.”_ The toy urges, a stubby limb pushing his cheek quietly, _“You can get out this time, but you have to hurry.”_ He reveals, and Joshua blinked away tears as he finally shifted-- he crawled out from under the table, standing up and clinging to the soft toy as he heads for the exit.

...He gets outside. The air was cold, but it was summer-- it was nice, in a sense, because whilst the sun was hot, the air was capable of cooling him down-- he looked around quietly, and he sees someone nearby-- a boy that’s barely his age, playing with a bunny plush, he watches for a moment, before whistling, the boy glances to him and smiles, seeming to brighten when he notices he’s there.

“Where’s your plush toy?” He called, giggling as Joshua came closer, “Oh, uh…” The brunette started, producing the plush toy and letting the boy touch it, “Here he is.” He spoke, the boy laughed a little, “I see, I see-- look, look! Mine’s Spring Bonnie.” He chirped, showing Joshua the golden rabbit in his grip, he was hanging onto it tightly, and Joshua couldn’t blame him for it.

“My daddy says I have to be careful with him-- or I might pinch my finger! He’s a finger trap, he says.” He explained, and the boy nodded, “You… can’t see where his mouth is, can you?” He spoke quietly, and the boy nods back to him, despite his grin-- Joshua felt awful, everyone did when they find out he was blind.

“I need to start heading home, your dad’s gonna be out in a bit, right..?” Joshua didn’t want to leave the boy defenseless, not here-- not like Delancy was, the blind child tilted his head to the side, nodding, “Yeah, daddy’ll be out soon… you should get home! I heard Michael come by, he was laughin’...” He spoke, and the older boy pats him on the shoulder, before saying his goodbye and leaving.

The sidewalk was nice sound on his ears when his sneakers hit it, he kept to himself before he sees her out of the corner of his eye-- a girl in pigtails playing with the flowers, weaving a crown, Joshua couldn’t help but get a little closer, “...Daffodils?” He asked.

The girl looked to him, and she smiled, giving a nod, “Hi, Josh!” She greeted, looking back down to the crown in progress, she pushes her nail through the stem of the flower, weaving another one through it, “You better watch out for those bots in your papa’s diner, I hear they come to life at night-- I don’t want Michael to leave you behind there when that happens.” She rambled, Joshua gave an uncomfortable look, “Really--? Are they dangerous..?” He questioned, frowning as he stood there.

“Mmhm! And if you die, they hide your body and never tell anyone-- like they did with Delancy.” She stated, “...I miss her.” She added, Josh placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, and gave a small smile.

“We all do.” He spoke quietly, “Jus’ hope it doesn’t happen again..” He sighs, and the girl gives him a little smile, “...Thank you, Josh.” She responded.

After a moment, her smile widens, and she nudged him, “Hey, why do you look so worried? I’ll be seeing you at the party!” She chirped, “I heard Mr. Coriander’s lettin’ Greg go!” She then whispered to him, and Joshua perked up, before looking towards the sky, “...I gotta go, a’ight? See ya around.” He explained, the girl gave a thumbs up-- and Joshua went on his way.

He continues his trek back home-- and he hears snickering, his head turns to find it almost instinctively, and his shoulders hunch-- that was Rick’s brother laughing at him, right? He should probably head on his way--

“Aren’t you the kid who always hides under the table and cries?” He asked, Joshua paused, looking around before giving a meek nod-- which only sends the pre-teen into a fit of laughter, “No one else is scared, so why are you? Stop being such a baby!” He jabbed, and the boy winced a little bit, looking at the floor.

He really was a baby.

Joshua tunes him out and keeps walking, his house was almost in reach, he didn’t have much of a walk to go.

Then he hears whispering, “Are you going to the party? Everyone’s going to the party!” A boy asks another child in a car, there’s no visible response that Josh could see-- so he inches closer, and he’s noticed, the boy with the balloon glanced at him, and gave a smile, “Ah, Josh-- you have to go, it’s  _ your _ birthday.” He chirped, chuckling, and the boy nodded, “Turnin’ the big one-oh soon!” He responded softly, and the boy nodded.

Joshua keeps walking, out of the corner of his eye once more does he see a girl playing by herself at the nearby park-- though he does not bother her, for her sake-- she looked like she needed the space, for some odd reason ( he vaguely noticed the missing poster next to her ).

Up the cobblestone path and into the house he goes-- Joshua didn’t like how quiet things were, but he doesn’t make a peep.

_“Be careful.”_ He hears, whispering in his ear.

The young boy moved further, the living room was too quiet, and Michael knew that he can’t hide in the same place twice-- so he checks the hallway, and finds nothing, Elizabeth’s room wasn’t available to hide anything, and thus…

Joshua goes into his room, taking careful steps before he hears a shuffle under his bed, and in a shaking voice does he call out, “Mikey, I don’t--”

The rest of his response was drowned out by the same pre-recorded screen and the teen sliding out from under his bed, Joshua stumbles-- and his head hits something hard.

A panicked whisper is what he hears besides Michael’s loud cursing.

_“Tomorrow is another day.”_

Joshua blacks out.


	6. One day until the party.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The back room always smelt awful.

He never liked the back room.

It was dark, cold and it smelled awful-- there were suits everywhere, eyes staring at him and him only, he didn’t like it-- he didn’t feel safe, and his family knew he didn’t like that room.

Maybe that’s why Michael locked him in here. Where everything looked at him like he wasn’t human, like he was just prey-- nothing more and nothing less, Joshua hated it so much. He really, truly did. It wasn’t safe here. It really wasn’t.

“Please, please let me out…” He pleaded softly, there was a strange smell in here, almost overpowering, almost making him sick, his head had turned to look at the masks on the shelves, staring at him-- the weird skeleton on the table, and the suit…

...The suit with a head of black hair in it, flies swirling around it as he swallowed thickly, what was that?

He didn’t like it, he didn’t like it at all-- he really didn’t, he had to get out.

“PLEASE!” He pleaded loudly, fists banging against the door multiple times, please, please-- he needed to leave, he didn’t want to be there anymore, he didn’t need to be there, it was scary, all-too scary for him, he wanted his father, Lizzie-- anyone comforting, for his own sake.

“...Please let me out…” He sobbed then, sliding down and leaning against the door as he cried, he just wanted to be away from the scary things… he had nothing to lean on, he had nothing to talk to, he was alone, so alone--

His bracelet beeps once, beeps twice, something hits the door, and he hears his father quell something before the door unlocks-- and he has to blink at the light now being let into the room.

“Joshua?” William spoke quietly, purple eyes staring down at him as he gave his son a worried look, “Oh, goodness… are you alright?” He asked, kneeling down to make his height even with him-- his hands wrap around his shoulders, and Joshua sniffled, “Mikey… Mikey locked me in here..” He tattled softly, and the man sighed, helping him up and holding his hand.

He can see the Security Puppet from the doorway, staring at the man, there was so much hostility… Joshua couldn’t understand it, really-- he wasn’t sure, but he was safe, now, wasn’t he? He was okay.

Will ruffled his hair with his free hand, seeming to completely ignore the robot, “Alright, kiddo-- how about this, we can go get ice cream and I’ll take you home, give Michael a talk about this, hopefully things’ll get better-- if he tries anything after, you can tell me, got it?” He offered, and Joshua blinked at him again before he gave a little smile.

“That… sounds really good, dad, thanks.” He spoke softly, and the man in purple gave a small grin ( out of the corner of his eye does Joshua see the Marionette tense up somewhat ).

“Anythin’ for you, kid.” He chimed, beginning to lead him out of the diner.

  
Tomorrow is another day, Joshua reminded himself, because tomorrow was a very  _ special  _ day.


	7. Zero days until the party.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bite(s?) of '83 shakes the town to its very core.

It was his birthday, and Joshua Afton wasn’t having a good time.

Under the table, crying harshly as he tries to keep to himself, they had surrounded him-- they had cornered him, he was not safe. He couldn’t see his father and Lizzie was probably off bothering some of her friends-- which meant he was vulnerable, and not to mention how they had blocked off the Security Puppet due to stacking present boxes over her charging station ( it wasn’t like some of the visitors could do anything, to them it looked like a stacked pile of presents ).

“Wow… your brother is kind of a baby, isn’t he?” He hears one ask, baby, some stupid baby, it was something he just couldn’t deny at this point, he was far too sensitive.

He can hear Michael snicker, and a soft murmur of, “It’s hilarious.” Joshua hiccupped, covering his mouth as he sat there, eyes screwed shut as he tried not to make a peep-- a futile effort, that much he was aware of.

“Hey, I have an idea..” He hears his brother start, “Why don’t we help him get a closer look-- he’ll love it!” The teen exclaimed, Josh let out a soft gasp as he shuffled away further.

“No, please--!” He begged, eyes wide as he shook, but he was ignored, and the teenager continued, “C’mon guys-- let’s give the little man a lift, I’m sure he wants to get up close and personal!” He chimed, and Joshua is roughly pulled out from under the table and carried.

He squirms and tries to wring himself away from them, screaming, yelling for some form of help as he did, he needed to get away, he had to get away! He didn’t want to go near those monsters--

( Weirdly enough, Joshua catches a glimpse of Lizzie alone, in the other room with the clown from the Funtime Line-- and he blinks and she was gone ).

His panic rises, and Joshua pleads, “No! I don’t want to go!” He cries, pulling one way when he’s being tugged the other, the teens only laugh, “You heard the little man!” Michael called, “ **He wants to get closer!** ”

_ Why can’t you just understand? _

He sees the stage, they’re all getting closer to it-- and he can hear running footsteps after him, “Hey, guys-- I think the little man said he wants to give Fredbear a big kiss!” The boy in the Foxy mask explains, and someone grips his shoulder hard.

_ “Put him down, Michael!” _ Joshua hears-- and for a moment there was relief, “GREG!” He called, turning his head to face him--

Only to see one of his brother’s cronies wrestle the poor boy to the floor, he’s vaguely aware of Gregory yelling for someone, he wasn’t sure who-- but he kept yelling, Michael ignores him, “On THREE! One, two--”

He’s shoved, he feels something hard press into the sides of his head as he dangles from the robot for a moment, he wheezed, and he begins to struggle.

He can hear Gregory yelling at him not to, he can hear his father and Henry come closer, frantic, William telling his brother off for a moment before he reaches up to save him--

And then there was pain, there was so much pain, it was scary, so scary-- Joshua couldn’t feel anything, Joshua felt nothing at all, but he could still see in those moments-- he sees William, pulling away with wide eyes, Michael, taking off his mask and inaudibly calling out his name, and Gregory, who buries his face into the carpeted floor in tears-- he can see it all.

And then the red became a part of his vision too.

All he could see was darkness.

...And he wasn’t sure how long it had been that way since.

Joshua hears beeping, and he can hear his brother, speaking quietly, tearfully.

“...Can you hear me?”

He could, he could hear him, loud and clear-- he can hear the beeping of something, rhythmic, soothing.

“...I don’t know if you can hear me. I’m sorry.” Joshua couldn’t blame him, he didn’t know, did he?

Deep down, Joshua truly did love his brother.

...Someone different spoke then. He knew that voice, he did! He was sure of it.

“You’re broken.” Soft, girly-- he was sure it was who he thought it was.

“...We’re still your friends, do you believe that?” He did, he really did, he tries to say something, yet he couldn’t.

“I’m here, Joshua, I’ll always be here. I’ll put you back together.” She promises, he feels something, a pair of hands encasing around his left as the beeping begins to slow.

He opens his mouth, and as he hears the flatline and fade off, he finally forces out what he wanted to say.

“Th… thank you… thank you, Delancy…”

He wasn’t going to be alone anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alllllllrighty! The whole beginning of it all is finished; thus concluding the prologue and '83 arc. The next arc is '87-- where we begin with the missing children.


	8. November 22nd, 1987.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He shouldn't have been killed.

_“Norah-- where are you going? Get back here!”_ He called, feet stepping across tile as Gregory chased his younger cousin-- black eyes focused on the five year old practically speeding across the room with tickets galore in her hands, laughing almost merrily as she did.

“C’mon, ya slowpoke!” The purple-eyed toddler called to him, a toothy smile on her face ( missing one of her teeth, she was ), “The Puppet’s gonna be sleepin’ soon! I don’t want to waste time-- I wanna get the Bonnie plush!” The now-teenager can only breathe out a defeated sigh, giving a little lopsided grin as he followed her.

He couldn’t say no to the five year old. He truly couldn’t; so Norah grabbed him by the hand and pulled him into Prize Corner, excitedly yelling to the robot in the box.

The Puppet turns to them ( Gregory thought it was a little freaky just how fluidly it did ), and leans forward, watching the toddler and the teen, blue pinpricks ( were they always blue? Yesterday he swore they were white ), focused on the tickets in the five year old’s grip, and a robotic chuckle leaves it.

“We-welcome to Prize Corner!” It speaks over the music of the little box in the corner of the counter, and Norah beams as it continues, “What’re yo-you after today, little one?” Gregory can only try to quell the grin threatening to come onto his face as Norah seems to chatter excitedly about the Bonnie plush that she wanted-- the Puppet listening to her as it reaches a long, spindly arm to grab what she wanted.

Out of the corner of his eye does he notice it-- four children and a rabbit ( an all-too familiar one ), walking down to the hall together. His eyes switch between his cousin and the group for a moment, almost uneasy.

Two boys, two girls-- those were the children, and he knew those children, his shoulders seem to tense as he keeps watching-- until they were all gone into the hallway.

Something wasn’t right. And before he knew it, he was moving-- sneakers taking him from the Prize Corner to the hall of Freddy Jr.’s. And it took him all the way down to an opened Parts & Service.

He stops in front of the door, cloudy black orbs focused on the sign before he was brought back to Earth with a shout of his name-- one that came from inside the room, and he looks-- seeing one of the girls look at him and grin, mismatched eyes focused on him and him only.

“C’mon, Greg!” She called, laughing a little, “Mr. Spring’s gonna throw you an early party! Your birthday is on the 29th, right?”

An… early birthday? That sounded… very, very sketchy. He didn’t know if it was really that-- but behind the small redhead does he notice the flicker of a match spark, so he readies himself-- and he heads in.

The door shuts and locks. They don’t come back out.

\---

She didn’t want to believe it. She didn’t want to believe that he did it again-- and yet here Delancy was at 12 AM, staring focusedly at the Parts and Service, a lump in her throat as she stood there, hands balled into fists-- she would have used her vessel to come into the room, but she needed to see this with her own eyes-- and not some robot’s.

She steels herself, heading in and gagging at the sight before her. A bloodbath-- it was a bloodbath, but there were no bodies ( why were there no bodies? ). Her feet cross the floor as she steps around spots of mildly-dried blood and splatters of what appear to be water, blue eyes scanning the area around her as she stood in the middle of the room.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that they had to meet their ends-- Delancy wasn’t stupid, she had a feeling that the bodies might have been shoved inside the old scrapped prototypes of the animatronics ( ones that were scrapped due to their likeness to Fredbear’s ), a part of her dearly hoped not-- but she knew hoping was feeble.

She walks closer to one specific animatronic in particular-- Fredbear, teeth still bloody from the accident of four years ago, Delancy swallows-- and looks closer at the tufts of blonde hair sticking out of the eye sockets.

She sees wide black eyes that lost life, and she chokes on a sob she didn’t know was coming, that was her brother, plain and simple-- she had been surprised when he was dragged up to the Corner with a toddler, before disappearing and leaving the child with her ( she was safe, of course, and Delancy made sure her mother came to collect her ), but she desperately hoped that he didn’t follow.

“Oh, Gregory… you idiot, you _stupid_ idiot--” She whispered, tears finally beginning to spill, “First the twins… and now you-- you and a bunch of others… I’m sorry.” She murmured, her eyes focusing on a batch of gift boxes in the corner of the room, she stands straight, wiping her eyes as a look of determination comes to her face.

“I’m gonna put you back together.”

**Give gifts, give life.**

\---

The news hit the town the very next day-- five missing children, all named and seen, Elijah Schmidt, Oscar Greene, Penelope Hodson, Catherine Jones and Gregory Coriander.

A man stands at the still-opened restaurant, the letter in his hand as he stared up at the sign-- he always hated the place, freaked him out ( he grinned and bared it because his adopted son wanted to go ).

He takes a breath, and walks in.

“Oh- hi!” A girl at the counter spoke, eyes staring up at the blonde, “Are you the guy on night shift, here to pick up your stuff? Sorry, I never got your name.” She spoke cheerfully.

The man nodded, a charming smile on his face.

“I’m _Jeremy_. Jeremy Ashton Fitzgerald-- it’s nice to meet you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so- the start of the '87 arc has begun, across five nights will a man have to figure out what exactly is going on, what he's here to do, and how to help ( alongside many others ), to ensure small steps of a project that lost souls have planned; what's gonna happen? tune in next time! ;D
> 
> fr tho! sorry this took so long- a lot has happened since my last post, so i wanted to update- a few tweaks have been done to the timeline in later stages, so i can't wait to show them off to you all! thank you so much for your patience!


	9. Poor Career Choice.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first night on the job and Jeremy swears he’s seeing things.

“So. This might have been a mistake.” He spoke, a hand pinching the bridge of his nose as the voice on the phone relays a message-- same old, same old… telling him how to do the job. He was fine with that, all good and dandy ( just wear the mask when those robots are in the room, he says! No proper night mode, he says! ). The twenty-eight year old can only give a weak sigh as he hears the call end, green eyes focused ahead of him as he sits at the office chair.

There was no way in hell this building was safe, no doors, faulty robots-- seriously, who decided not to add a night mode?-- and a puppet that needs a box wound constantly, his hand moves to massage his left temple, his other pressed firmly on the ‘wind’ button for the Marionette’s music box, before Jeremy picks up his flashlight and flicks between the vents, eyebrows furrowed as he taps his foot to a rhythmic tune. Probably the distant music box-- he didn’t know.

His eyes flicker to the letter on his desk, and he pauses for a moment to inspect it once more-- the entire reason why he was here, really, after all… it was from someone unthinkable-- someone long gone.

Or was she? The signature was clearly her name.

He rereads it once more, still in his disbelief despite having done what she had asked.

_‘Mr. Jere,_

_ It’s been a long time; but I wanted to write this letter to you. I had a little friend of mine write this and send it in my stead as I don’t have the physicality to do such things-- but I have something to ask of you. I want you to work at Freddy Jr.’s, get the nightshift so it won’t be suspicious, it might seem weird, but you need to trust me. I’ll explain then. _

_ \- Songbird.’   
_

Sure, it seemed odd, after all-- it looked like a toddler’s scrawl, but it was her nickname, and Jeremy knew that-- no one else in Hurricane had that nickname, so his disbelief was warranted.

He looks around, breaking from his thoughts as he snaps the light at the right vent, heaving when he sees it-- damn rabbit, always moving… the man can only sigh as he pulls the mask on his head down, hand still pressed firmly on the wind button.

Green meets green as the toy rabbit moves into view, staring at him-- Jeremy stared as well with his back straight, a small bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face-- facial recognition, keep it all in mind.

The rabbit leans back, straightening in satisfaction before trotting out of the office, his mask goes back up-- and he breathes fresh air.

“Why is it so stuffy in there--” He murmured, wiping the top of his forehead, “Warm, too…--”

Not even a second after that, the mask is knocked back on his face, Jeremy lets out a weird noise-- something between a ‘wh’ and a ‘ghk’, and he swears he hears giggling, if only for a moment-- so he brushes it off and pulls the mask back up.

“Damn draft.” He excused, looking annoyed-- after all, it was pretty cold in the office, and Fazbear Entertainment didn’t give two shits about their workers, so--

His head shifts as the mask falls on his face once more, and he huffs, re-adjusting it, the man couldn’t help but glance around, eyebrows furrowed-- someone was here, he was sure of it.

The sound of a ding could be heard as he looked up at the clock-- eyes widening as he read the number-- 6 AM, shift was over. So he stands up, picking up the letter once more before heading out of the office-- out of the corner of his eyes does he see something. Something that shouldn’t be possible, to him at least.

As he passed Parts & Service, he locked eyes with a golden suit that twitched before disappearing into the blackness.

He made his departure quick that morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm on a rOLLLL BABYYYY, regardless- this night might seem a little bit rushed, but the second night will be better, trust me, after all, tomorrow night jere meets an important face <3


	10. Passion Project.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wasn't expecting another person.

“This is **hell**.” He decided, right leg bouncing irritably as he sits in the office. Second night on the job and already he’s had to fend off two of the toys multiple times in the span of an hour; Jeremy hated it, really, but he didn’t really mind it all that much considering what he’s here to do. He had already found a work-around for the music box and its constant attention-- by which, he looks at the makeshift weight out of multiple quarters ( trust it to be _Jeremy_ who also blue-tacks the weight to the button for good measure ).

His hand twirls the flashlight as he flicks through the cameras on the screen once, just to check before switching back to Prize Corner-- the less his hands need to work, the better, so says he ( plus it gave him more free time to look around and dig into why he was brought here. Though, by that logic… was he the only one lured? The blonde could only muse as he watches the hall-- the voice on the phone still ringing in his ears.

‘I’m not sure the Freddy head will work on Foxy.’ Comes to mind then, and Jeremy sighed, “Dammit, Arthur… ‘course you’d warn me about the older ones.” He murmured, but now that he thought about it… he said they smelled, too-- right?

His thoughts were broken by the tap-tap-tapping of tiny feet down the hall, and almost on instinct did the man flash the light-- and felt his heart leap into his throat. The child at the end of the hall covered her eyes at the bright light, and Jeremy couldn’t help but wonder how she even got here.

“Norah-- _Norah_ , get the hell over here.” He murmured, beckoning the five year old closer, to which she trots into the office, looking a bit annoyed.

“I was hopin’ you wouldn’t hear me.” She whined. Jeremy pinched the bridge of his nose, before crouching down to her little height of 3’0”, eyebrows furrowing.

“What are you even _doing_ here, kiddo? You should be sleepin’.” He stated, before his expression softens with how upset Norah seemed to look, “Is it about… y’know.” He gave a little nod, “Your cousin?” He finished, and the toddler looked at him, giving a small smile.

That confirmed it, then, but a part of him wondered just why she was really here-- if it were just her cousin, she’d be at home with her mother, mourning, but then he thought… Catherine and Norah, they were close friends, weren’t they? His heart bled for the little girl-- having lost two close people in one day.

“They went missin’ here,” Norah started, cutting the man off from his train of thought, “S… so I thought-- I thought that if I came here then I could find them. But-- but I couldn’t… do it in the day. Since there's a lotta people around and places would be off-limits.”

He had to hand it to her; Norah was a _damn smart kid_. He could only muster a small smile to comfort her before his eyes dance to the right vent-- ah, Balloon Boy, his mask flicks down on his head and he picks the child up, placing her on the table as he flickered the light at the vendor’s eyes-- causing the small, round robot to wriggle out, laugh at him-- and walk away.

Norah could only watch with this look of sheer, utter _confusion_ on her face compared to Jeremy’s _tired dad_ expression. The toddler can only blink hard as Jeremy glances around the office, eyes narrowed.

He flashes the light down the main hall and freezes, Norah lets out a gasp. What was standing before them was a chicken, with no hands and a gaping mouth, it takes Jeremy a moment to realise why these robots were left in the back when he smells it-- blood. Norah could only gag at the stench in the air, covering her mouth with teary eyes.

The man takes a moment to breathe-- strobing the light to at least keep the withered robot in place ( that, and he could vaguely see Foxy far behind her; two birds with one stone ), Norah had screwed her eyes shut as she sat there, though no tears were shed-- and Jeremy watches the fox down the hall scamper back to the backroom and the chicken wobble into one of the party rooms-- she’ll be back later, he reminded himself.

He was slowly understanding the pattern, at least-- he believed he was, anyways-- he took a moment to collect himself as he checked the time, ten minutes until it was over-- ten minutes until he could walk out of here and take Norah home.

“Um, Mr. Jere?” Speaking of the devil, he looked at the little girl, an eyebrow raising in question, seeing this does she continue, “I was wondering… I-- I overheard some of the em… em-plo-yees talkin’ about… facial-- facial reco-'' Her eyebrows furrowed, “Facial re-cog-ni-tion. I was thinkin’.. did-- did something _happen_ to the robots?”

_Did something happen to the robots_ , huh? The man paused, a hand going to his face as he thought, he hears Chica crawling through the vents, flicking the mask down as she crawls in, a part of him knew that he was taking a risk like he did with Balloon Boy-- but he noticed something strange, and what he was doing now confirmed his little theory.

Chica looks between them-- to Jeremy, registering him as Freddy, and then Norah, to which she seemed to soften up and tilt her head curiously before leaving in satisfaction-- and he pulls up the mask and looks at her.

“You might be onto something, kid.” He spoke then, “See… the robots don’t have a proper night mode from what I’ve heard-- they think anyone in the building is an intruder, but… they clearly recognise children like you.” He reasoned, before giving a wink, “Maybe we have a bigger mystery on our hands.”

“So does that mean I can come back tomorrow?!” She asked suddenly, eyes widening, “I-- I wanna help out with what you’re doing! And… and the robots won’t hurt me, like you said!” She rambled then, the man sighed, a frown coming to his face.

“Norah… no-- your sleep schedule will get messed up, you have school, after all. Maybe you could tell your Uncle Henry? He might be interested in this stuff, for now… this’ll be my little passion project-- between you and I, okay?” He crouches, tapping his nose and winking.

The five year old could only give a smile and an understanding nod, “If… you’re sure, Mr. Jere-- but, um, can I tell m’cousins, too? They understand robots more than me, so… so they could help.” She offered, the man paused, thinking to himself.

“...Yeah, you can-- I saw you three working together to try and fix Toy Foxy a few days back, they know their stuff-- just make sure they don’t try to come here during the night.” He answered then, head lifting once he hears the chime of his shift finishing, he gives Norah a little grin, holding out his hand, “Shall we?”

The child grinned, taking his hand, “Mmhm!” She nods ecstatically, and the man leads her out of the pizzeria.

In the corner of his eye, though, does he see the golden bear again-- this time, near the Prize Corner, where he could also swear the Marionette was peeking out at them.

Then he blinks and they were gone, he simply brushes it off and heads out with the intent of dropping Norah off back home.

He had something to plan, anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there she is... baby girl baby, but hey! hope you enjoyed this chapter <3
> 
> also! a small added note, the offices during each arc are based on the offices from vr; which is why the music box has a winding button that's separate from the actual screen!! just wanted to clear that up in case anyone was confused :D


	11. Triple Trouble.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was expecting them, surely, but he wasn't expecting all of them at once.

“I’m not mad, I’m disappointed.” He says, arms crossed as he stared down at them. Norah could only give a sheepish smile as she scratched her cheek, almost shy as she looked at him apologetically.

He couldn’t be mad; kids will be kids, sometimes their curiosity tends to be a bit much; which was why he was sat in the office with not one, not two, but **three** children, Norah, and the twins-- speaking of those two little demons, they’re currently taking apart Charlotte’s rabbit plush whilst he watches, almost exasperated-- plush surgery? What in the _fuck_ are they doing?

“Jeez, kid..” His hand reaches out to ruffle the youngest one’s brown hair ( a stark contrast to the rest of her family-- blonde hair and brown, black and blue eyes, and here she is with chocolate brown hair and striking purple eyes ), “At least try to take my advice-- your mom’s probably worried about you.” He tells her.

Charlotte looks up from her and Sammy’s operation on Theodore, “Aunt Amity is visiting Ma in the hospital.” She informed simply, “So she’s staying with us for a little bit! Pa’s busy teachin’ Mikey about the endoskeletons in his garage, so we’re in charge’a Norah.” She finished, looking a little pleased.

Samuel looks up to Jeremy, a fist near his mouth in a shy gesture, “She.. she tol’ us about the project you have in-- in mind.” He added then, “Since… since Charlie an’ I wanna help, we offered to bring the boss office key-- since, since the robots won’t hurt us… we can look around, too.” He stated, voice raspy, Jeremy folded his arms as he listened, sighing.

It could be worse… they could have brought his son along too ( and his son would raise hell on Earth ), at least he had two docile children to watch over-- oh, and _Charlotte_. Even so… he could keep up with her.

“So, Mr. Fitzgerald!” Charlotte called, “It’s two AM, will ya let us roam? We’ll stick together whilst you remain safe here in the office, from the **_scaaaaaaary_ **murder robots who want your face-” Norah burst into a fit of confused giggles at that, whilst Sammy gently punched his twin’s shoulder.

“Ch… Charlie, don’t be rude..!” He mumbled, pouting as the girl stuck her tongue out at the man-- to which he returned it, taking the remark in light jest. Jeremy adjusted the mask on top of his head as he looked to the music box button; the weight still tacked onto it tightly, before he looked back.

“Alright.” He started, looking at the three, “You’re allowed to roam, stick together or else I’m telling Henry that you snuck out in the middle of the night to come here.” He threatens jokingly, hearing Samuel give a faux-terrified gasp and Charlie blow a raspberry at him.

Norah, however, clapped, grinning ear-to-ear, “C’mon, c’mon--!” She exclaimed, the twins get up, trotting on out after her, Jeremy could only hope that they’ll be alright as he sits and readies his flashlight-- eyes dancing to the camera footage as he monitors them.

He switches cameras-- he sees them make their way through the hall, to the arcade, at some point do the twins stop and surround the poor Balloon Boy, just staring at him ( he had no clue why they were doing that, but he had no place to judge ), and once they were finished-- he noticed the trio head off camera, and he faintly hears something unlock and open as he notices Mangle in the vents.

His mask goes down, and he sits there quietly as the broken toy scuttles in, observing him almost intriguingly as they dangled from the ceiling. Jeremy doesn’t move, hand on the flashlight as he waits for the fox to leave-- and once they leave, Jeremy springs back into action-- after all, it was the least he could do.

He hears chattering from somewhere in the building-- he was sure that it was the kids, especially considering how Charlotte was faintly threatening to clobber ‘the big fat bear on stage’, he couldn’t help but chuckle a little, covering his mouth as he did.

Jeremy is positive he hears giggling from someone else that accompanied his own, and he looked around, eyebrows furrowing. Was he going insane? He’s been seeing and hearing things for the past… two, maybe three nights, his eyes look to the clock-- 4 AM. Soon to be 5, he needed to keep them all at bay.

“Mr. Fitzyyyy~!” He hears, and the man can only sigh, “Charloooooooooootte.” He echoed back as the twins and their cousin walked into the room, Sammy’s arms wrapped tightly around a bunch of case files and Charlotte holding a crank and a strange mechanism, “Lookit this, old man!” The older twin exclaimed, grinning, “Norah found these in one of the desks--”

“--Sh… she also helped me picklock the shelf the files were in by… by holding the tension wrench.” He stammered, almost losing his voice, Jeremy can only sympathetically pat the boy’s shoulders, and Norah gives Sammy a worried look, “We gave ‘em a, a read-over-- I think you’ll want t’ see ‘em--” With that, he holds out the files, and he takes them, gently thanking the nine year old as he places them on his desk, his attention turns to Charlotte quizzically as she makes the strange mechanism in her hands let out a large snap.

He’s sure he’s seen it before-- a small spring with a little box at the bottom of it, a hole residing on that very same box-- Charlotte inserts the crank into it, twisting it as Jeremy watches the spring coil up with tension and might, before she removes the crank, he leans forward a little bit to observe it, and almost cheekily does Charlotte tug to very bottom of the spring; which causes the little metal thing to shoot out with a sharp snap.

Jeremy frowned, expression turning dark a little-- ah, he knew what it was, he shook off the grim look on his face before swiping the device from the troublesome twin, “Don’t mess with that-- it’s dangerous.” He informed her, and all three of the children looked to him curiously.

“What is it?” Norah piped up, Sammy biting on his sleeve almost impulsively as he and his twin watched him, Jeremy looked at the sprung springlock in his hand, and tightened his grip to form a fist, looking at them.

“This little thing? It’s a springlock, do you remember when Fredbear’s was opened, and they had those dancing golden suits?” He started, and the twins nod-- but the youngest looks confused, “You were very young when it happened, Norah-- but these were part of the suits the actors would wear.” He revealed, “A springlock, if you will; they pull back the robotic parts of an animatronic suit so people can wear it-- it’s what Henry told me they were a few weeks back.”

“If that’s the case, why was it in uncle Will’s desk?” Charlotte asked, frowning, to which Jere faltered, “...I don’t know.” He responded, pulling his mask down as a withered bear animatronic walks in and watches them for a moment-- be natural, “But it certainly looks like it’s just been removed from a suit.” He added then, opening his fist and observing the piece, “The damage cuts off at the box-- I’d take it that it’s been removed about… a week ago, maybe.” He theorised.

Norah frowned, “But, Mr. Jere… I saw one of the suits bein’ used the day Greg and everyone else went missing-- the rabbit.” She piped up, the twins looked at her, interested, “The suit didn’t look f… faulty-- at least, I don’t think it had any locks loose… So what suit was it taken from?” She really _was_ a smart kid; must have gotten it from her father, _wherever the hell he was_.

Jeremy seemed to think, eying the springlock as the old Freddy model finally seems to leave-- before clutching his hand around it once more, “...Maybe it was Fredbear himself.” He responded gently, looking to them, “Fredbear had more flaws than the suit you saw, Norah-- he was a bit more dangerous… he was the main cause of an accident back in ‘83, remember William’s younger son, Joshua? Fredbear hurt him.” He spoke.

Sammy nodded, “Mmhm-- Greg… Greg was really sad. Josh was his _bestest_ friend, after all..” He muttered, Jeremy looked to the time, noting it was five minutes before six, turning back to the kids.

“Well… regardless of that, thank you kids-- I’ll take these home and read through them, okay?” He asked, “Oh-- and you better not come back tomorrow night, I’m warning you now, I will tell Henry.” He added, causing Charlotte to blow yet another raspberry, “Especially you, you rascal.” Jeremy singled out Charlotte, giving a cheeky little grin, “You kids need to rest… you’ve done enough for me, alright?” The trio nod as the chime of six hit-- and he places the mask on the desk, scooping up the files, “Oh-- and Charlotte… keep the crank, your father probably would need it.” He added, even if it was only to fight off his own temptation to wind the springlock they found.

“Now then-- follow the leader, kids.” He chimped, walking out of the office with the kids in pursuit, Sammy having picked up Theodore at the last minute.

On the way out does he notice the Marionette leaning out of the box a little; observing, thinking-- he locks eyes with it for a moment, green staring into a familiar blue as he breaks away and heads on out to drop the kids off.

...A part of him wondered if those eyes were always blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enter thing 1 and thing 2! charlie and sammy, two peas in a pod where sammy is the only one with brain cells-- a little fun fact about sammy, he stutters a lot and has trouble speaking due a throat problem, which will lead him to becoming mute in due time, it's why he relies on charlie to be his voice!


	12. Case Files.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fourth night on the job, and Jeremy reads over the files the kids got for him.

Occasionally, he will admit that he tends to get a bit too into reading-- it was a habit that he couldn’t change, after all; he had always been quite the bookworm, a part of him was inherently thankful for this quality-- it allowed him to zone out and not be aware of what was happening, but with the situation he was currently in, well… he had to be vigilant-- his life was on the line, after all. It was why he would occasionally look up and strobe the flashlight into the hallway to check on Foxy, regardless of the mask being on and obscuring some parts of his vision-- as well as the weight on the music box’s button.

His free hand laid flat on the desk, the case files from yesterday on the surface as he looked over them; files on the missing children, as well as two accident reports from years back, one from 1981 and one from 1983.

“Freddy’s seems to be a cesspool of misdeeds.” He commented softly, the Mangle overhead watching him curiously, he had noticed the attempt to put them back together-- Norah and the twins, he assumed, he was just happy those three weren’t with him tonight ( they had listened to him for once… good ). The man runs a hand through his hair as he begins to work through them all chronologically.

Halloween of 1981; the murder of Delancy Coriander… Jeremy knew her, he babysat her whenever Henry and Amara needed him to-- he was fond of the kid, treated her almost like the little sister her never got to have ( and let her wreak her havoc when she pleased ), he blinks hard, holding down any and all tears that threaten to break on through-- he did miss her.

He was there for the funeral, mortified to hear that she had been stabbed multiple times-- and the worst part was that she had been left out on her own in the rain, with no one to call for. And that broke him, after all-- how could someone be so cruel to snatch away a life that had so much ahead of her?

He shakes off his turmoil, checking the hall again as Mangle leaves-- he sees Foxy at the end of it, and he flickers the light, eyebrows furrowing as he sits there, the broken fox scampers on away from him, acting almost like a hurt puppy ( he has to reprimand himself-- that was a robot that wanted him dead ). His attention turned to the next file-- and Jeremy held his breath.

The fabled Bite of ‘83, where Joshua Afton had his entire frontal lobe removed in a vicious crunch from the main star of the diner, the damage report was short, but Jeremy couldn’t help notice a few interesting points at the very bottom of the report-- ‘Elizabeth Afton was deemed missing shortly after the accident, approx. ten minutes at the very least’, and ‘Michael Afton was deemed missing a week after the accident’.

That was interesting-- he knew where Michael was, after all, he ran away to Henry’s because of his issues with his father, but he always wondered where Elizabeth had went off to; she had been deemed dead a month after the bite, as the only thing they had found of her was her ribbon, covered in ice cream.

His eyes flicked to the bottom point, and his eyebrow raised, ‘The victim had suffered multiple flatlines in the hospital, with the first flatline being the longest, he suffered six flatlines before his father decided to pull the plug of his sake.’

“...He never mentioned the flatlines.” Jeremy commented softly, watching Toy Bonnie pass his office through the vent, he checked for Foxy once more, a frown on his face still as he closed the file-- before glancing to the five left over.

He picks up the first one, Elijah Schmidt, he knew the boy’s older brother, Mike-- ironically, now that he thought about it.. Mike and Michael often got along due to their name similarities, too. Even so, he opened the file, looking through it as Withered Freddy trots in.

“Brown hair, brown eyes, dark-skinned…” He muttered to himself, not noticing the broken bear seeming to react with curiosity, “Stood at 4’2”, ten years old-- last seen with four other kids and an employee--” He reads, only noticing the brown finger of the bear animatronic reach over and seeming to point at the picture of Elijah himself, he points at it for a moment, seeming to stare before retreating into the darkness.

“...Weird.” The man commented, closing the file and turning to the next one-- Oscar Greene, a part of him breaks a little, wasn’t that Fritz’ younger cousin? ...He opens the file, checking for the broken fox before reading.

Same thing as Elijah, but different appearance-- the same went for Penelope Hodson and Catherine Jones’ case files. Gregory’s wasn’t that different, either, it only had the added note of ‘was with his cousin in Prize Corner before joining the group’. Jeremy rubs his neck almost impulsively-- no new information, unfortunately; nothing that stuck out-- he closed the files, stacking them and reading the time-- it was 5:10 AM. He had started reading at 2:30. He bites the inside of his cheek as he checks for Foxy once more--

But he freezes when he sees a large golden Freddy head looming in the door, to which he promptly shuts of the flashlight, and puts his head in his hands, “Nope, fuck that, absolutely not.” He whispers, but he looks up when he swears he hears the laugh of a teen, almost cheekily enjoying their mischief ( it reminded him of Charlie, whenever she’d concoct an elaborate prank whilst Sammy tried to stop her ).

He flashes the light again-- squinting to see commotion at the very back of the hallway-- the Withereds, all congregating, seeming to talk amongst themselves as he sits and tries to listen; but it was far too vague for him, most he heard was static.

But he couldn’t help but wonder… those were the only robots in the backroom when the kids went missing, right? The bodies were never found, and they smelled… a hand went under the mask to grab his chin in thought, eyebrows furrowed as he pieced things together… they _couldn’t_ be, could they?

Jeremy was not one to dabble in the paranormal, but considering the letter, the mind games and the fact that those animatronics moved _way_ too fluidly for being broken… they couldn’t be **using** those robots, could they? His mind goes a mile a minute as he sits there, gears turning as he watches the Withereds-- who seem to notice his staring, Freddy seems to stare back, his hand reaching out to make a gesture-- one Jeremy recognised as a wave, and he waved back, a little baffled as the broken bear makes another gesture-- one of beckoning.

The clock chimed six before Jeremy could get up-- causing the quartet of broken robots to look between each other, heading back into the backroom, Jeremy stands, taking the files and leaving quickly-- he’ll look into it tomorrow night, anyways.

\---

In the middle of the day, a man in purple notices the office desk being messier than usual-- violet eyes scanning the details idly before stopping on a piece of paper left behind, he picks it up-- eyebrows rising at the details of the page.

“...Gregory’s missing person report?” The Brit murmured, tilting his head, this was in his office drawer-- how could it have been left here? It wasn’t here yesterday… he looked around for anything else; noticing a small, faux eyeball from a plush on the floor near the TVs, and he thinks-- it couldn’t have been taken from the desk, unless…

He smiles then, looking at the page, “The night shift is fancying himself a real Sherlock Holmes, hm? And his little Watson, too..” He picks up the eyeball, looking over it-- “My, oh my…”

He shakes his head, and pockets them both, folding the page before doing so, “Guess I’ll have to cause a little scene for them.” He hummed, leaving the office with a whistle.

Little does he notice a letter getting placed on the desk discreetly-- ghostly fingers sneaking away as it’s placed under the tablet.

William makes a mental note to ask for Jeremy to be moved to dayshift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's where a little bit of canon-divergence takes place! jeremy only works five nights-- whilst fritz works the sixth night, the reason why? wellllll.... let's just say jeremy is apparently on the food chain, oops?
> 
> either way, thanks for reading!


	13. Souls Evicted.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On his last night... Jeremy finds out about a truth that gets him in hot water.

He’d been sat in the office quietly for five minutes now, it’s just barely 12:45-- and yet the building was far, far too silent; almost eerie, if he says so himself, his eyes remained fixated on the piece of paper on the desk before him-- a child’s scrawl with a simple sentence; one that put Jeremy on edge for some odd reason.

‘ COME OUT BACK ‘. Who wrote that? Where did they want him to go? What did they want from him? It was too ominous, and considering the lack of activity in the night right now-- a part of Jeremy wondered just what is really going on. He makes an idle check for the hallway-- and then he pauses, thinking about what he witnessed yesterday… Freddy, wasn’t it Freddy who beckoned him? And Freddy’s…

He checks the cameras-- he notices the Withered ones congregating in the backroom, almost waiting on something ( or someone )-- his eyebrows furrowed, and he switches the camera back to the Prize Corner, placing the weight on the music box button before standing, grabbing the mask and flashlight before heading out.

The only sounds he could hear were his own shoes on the clean tile floor; simple and easy, he heard nothing else-- not even the Balloon Boy’s laughter ( he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or if that little gremlin learned to not make sounds ), he makes his way down the hall, stopping when he reaches the bend towards the main party room-- his head turns to the door to Parts & Service; and a part of him hesitates; after all, he’d be walking into a potential lion’s den, right?

Something pushes at his back, sending him stumbling nearer the door; he whips around to look at the culprit… only to find nothing, the man tenses, clearly unnerved by that. His thumb twitches on the flashlight’s switch as he took a moment to breathe, before looking to the door, his hand reaching forward to place itself flat on the surface-- he swallowed a lump in his throat that he didn’t realise he had-- and opened the door.

Four, no, five pairs of eyes turn to him, and he turns the flashlight on, keeping it pointed to the floor in case he sets one of them off-- Freddy shifted, seeming to stand and stare at him-- and he opens his jaw to speak.

“We-- we’ve been waiting, Mr. Jere.” Comes a voice that didn’t quite fit the bear; and Jeremy practically almost jumps out of his skin-- holy shit, that sounded like a child-- he takes a moment to breathe, and nodded, “R… right, _okay_ , so… who are you?” He asked, he could hear it-- his heart practically pounding in his ears as the broken bear tilts his head almost childishly, optics blinking.

“I think you already have an idea, sir.” He spoke, and Jeremy bit the inside of his cheek, a hand reaching up to rub his arm as he stood there, “After all-- you seemed like you had a realisation yesterday, right?”

“Yeah. You’re… you lot-- you’re the kids, aren’t you?” He asked then, and there seemed to be a collective nod across the four, “I’m guessing the golden trap of a suit has someone in it, too.” He then added, pointing to the bloodied Fredbear suit, Bonnie seemed to nod, and turned to stare at the suit almost expectantly, “C… come o--out.” The rabbit called, causing the suit to let out what appeared to be a tired groan.

_“I was sleeping…”_ Comes an idle chime, but what appeared before the suit caught the man by surprised, Gregory Coriander, on his knees and covered in springlock scars from what he could see-- Jeremy cringes, and the teen looked up to him, before standing, giving a little smile, _“It’s nice to see you, Mr. Fitzgerald--”_ He spoke, and the man softened, Gregory was always so polite, especially after ‘83.

“It’s good to see you, Greg.” He spoke, “Is Delancy here? I got her letter.” He added then, and the teen looked to the others; before back to the man, and nodded. Jeremy lets a little grin come onto his face-- after all, it meant his little theory was correct-- and he folds his arms, “That’s… how are you kids even..?”

Gregory raised a hand to draw his attention, _“About that,”_ he started quietly, expression forlorn, “ _we… we were murdered, Mr. Fitzgerald, much like Delancy was.”_ He started, _“Mr. Afton killed us-- put our bodies into the suits.”_

“That explains the smell.” Jeremy replied, listening to the little ‘oi!’ that came from Chica, “Who’s in who?” He asked then, looking at them all, “I know Greg’s in Fredbear, by the looks of it-- I assume you had a failure in the suit due a springlock missing.” He frowned when the teen nodded, and then Bonnie raised his only hand.

“I’m O-- Osc--ar.” He spoke, and then pointed to Freddy, Chica, then Foxy, “That’s E-- Eli-jah, ‘Nell, and Ca-- Cathy.” He specified, before looking back, Jeremy gives an understanding nod, now that he’s looking at them… they’ve been through something quite awful, the damage done… it did break his heart to see such injuries on vessels ( especially children’s vessels… he wonders if they can feel that pain ).

“Mr. Jeremy,” Penelope seems to pipe up, flapping her majorly-stuck arms a little, “Can you help us?” She asked, “I want to go home. But-- but no one will see us. Greg says that if we get out of these bodies… we’ll go to a happy place, instead of being down here, and hurting.” The man listened, frowning, “Can… can you help us find a way?”

Greg closed his eyes, _“Kids can only do so much… we need adults to help us sometimes.”_ He admitted, and the man blinked, the ghostly blonde teen looked to him, hands balling into fists, _“It’s why Delancy suggested you-- she sent the letter so that you’d take the night shift, think of it as a potentially dangerous trial, after all… we need someone who’s quick enough with their reflexes.”_ He added, Jeremy squinted.

“I did _not_ appreciate the murder attempts.” He replied, “But.. I can’t stay mad at you-- I’ll help, alright? It’s.. the least I can do after all this.” He added then, folding his arms, Catherine let out a cheer ( though from the fox, it was obviously pirate-speak ), the twenty-eight year old looked around, frowning, “So, what do I do? I’ve been told that I’m being moved to day shift starting tomorrow, a friend’s kid’s birthday, uh-- Sandra Lewek’s little girl.” He explained, and the teen paused, thinking.

_“Well, since that’s the case… it means you can keep an eye out for Mr. Afton.”_ Greg started, pressing his mouth into a thin line, _“He’s been messing with the Toy Animatronics’ AIs, which was why they were after you, too.”_ He then explained, “So they might also be rather buggy in the daytime. Two birds with one stone, if that makes sense.” He reasoned, _“And… and the twins, and Norah, too-- a part of me is worried Mr. Afton could target them-- considering he seems to like inflicting this kind of mental torment on my family.”_ He added, Jeremy reached out for his shoulder, hesitating before carefully placing his hand there.

“Gregory, you shouldn’t worry… I promise I’d protect those kids with my life, didn’t I?” He gave a wink, “You can count on me, kid-- but… there’s someone else I think should hear about this.” His eyes dance to Oscar then, watching the vessel’s ears shift, “I’m… sure Oscar’s cousin would like to see him again.” He added, the rabbit’s ears shot up, and a little gasp emmits from him.

“F-- Fritz?” He asked, and Jeremy nodded, “Mmhm.. and as for Elijah’s brother, I’ll… I’ll tell him when he’s older, yeah?” He ensured, looking at the bear, who tilted his head for a moment, and then nodded understandingly.

“Why suggest this, though?” Greg pondered, “A back-up of sorts, maybe?” A guess, truly-- but Jeremy nodded, needing no more words.

The teen opens his mouth then-- only to go quiet when the chime of six sounds, he looked to Jeremy, before giving a small smile, _“...Go put your equipment back and head out, Mr. Fitzgerald.”_ He spoke, _“Be safe, alright?”_

The man nodded, tipping the Freddy mask on his head before heading out of the room to discard his items and leave-- he’ll be back in the afternoon.

\---

He was… a little bit out of sorts, considering it was 2:45 PM and he was on day shift, his hands were folded and he kept a keen eye out for anything odd ( he had passed William quite a few times, exchanging glares whilst the bastard smirked at him ), every-so-often does he focus on the robots; to make sure they weren’t acting strange.

He also had a little duckling following him in the form of Sammy Coriander, clutching a Freddy plush tightly as he stayed near him-- eyebrows furrowed in worry. He wasn’t one to turn away children-- so he supposed he had to play Follow the Leader. He makes his rounds, once, twice-- and then he stops, peering into Kids’ Cove to see Charlotte trying to mend the broken toy fox.

Sammy pulls his sleeve, looking up to it, “Mr. Jere.” He started softly, “I don’t think the fox is safe. It’s been twitchy since we got here.” He stated, worried, “I’m scared it might do something bad.”

Jeremy frowned, watching the pink and white fox begin to crawl-- it goes up the wall, onto the ceiling… and looms over Sammy’s twin, Charlie seems to look back up at it, grinning-- and Jeremy doesn’t realise how fast he’s running, his arm sticks out and--

Pain, he cringes, biting the inside of his cheeks so hard that he’s convinced he’s drawing blood, Charlie and Sammy had started screaming-- and other children had joined in as Jeremy returns his focus; and sees just what had happened.

His entire arm, from the wrist to the elbow, were enclosed in Mangle’s teeth, sharp pointed metal sticking into the flesh and causing _sharp_ pain whenever he moved an inch, fuck-- he was positive Mangle might have hit something important, and he wasn’t sure if he’ll be alright after this, he can hear someone calling for an ambulance in the distance-- but his vision was getting hazy, and he was going out of focus.

Jeremy blacked out.

\---

The hospital was **boring** , to say the least, it was a place where Fritz didn’t like to be ( he never needed to be there, after all ), even on visiting hours, or even small check-ups-- it was something that unnerved him, and he wasn’t sure why, the environment was almost alien to him, and he didn’t belong there.

But he needed to see the old man, he needed to hear what he had to say to him-- he was the first person he requested to see after the surgery.

He stops at the second to last door in the hallway, knocking on the surface and listening to the soft welcoming mumble within-- and he walks in, blinking curiously at the man sitting on the bed, giving him a nervous smile.

“Hey, Fritz.” He greeted, leaning back on the pillows that were provided, Fritz walked over to the chair near the bed, taking a seat, the blonde could only smile at him.

“Are you feelin’ any better, Jeremy?” He asked, the man could only give a soft chuckle, looking to his injury-- or, well, lack of arm now-- “I’ll be alright, kid; I’m guessing Henry asked you to cover the night shift this one night?” He inquired, watching Fritz give a little nod.

“It’s ‘cause you recommended me, right? Why?” He asked then, the blonde frowned, leaning on his only hand to come face to face with him.

“There’s something I need to tell you about your cousin and the kids that went missing with him.”

Fritz took a breath. He had a feeling this would be a _long_ talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOO okay we've got ONE final chapter until the FNaF 2 arc is finished!! i'll be giving a tiny hint at the end of the next chapter that'll go towards the next arc- which i personally can't wait to get started with!
> 
> by the way- a tiny fun fact that'll be touched upon later in the story! jeremy loses his arm in the bite of '87, and arthur- the phone guy- gets that mixed up with the bite of '83, he's never been that good with remembering, but who can blame him?
> 
> thanks for reading! hope you're hyped for the finale of the missing children arc ;D


	14. Rotten Smells.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, the person for the job is someone unexpected.

“Could have warned me about how fuckin’ nerve-wracking this could be…”

Fritz laid his head on the desk almost regretfully as he sat in the office, the only reason why he took the night shift as a back-up was because the new hire was taking a little while to get back to Hurricane; it wasn’t his fault, so Fritz can’t blame him. Even so… he couldn’t help but think about what Jeremy said, after all…

-^-

_He leans forward, his chin resting on his interlocked hands; “You’re telling me one of the owners murdered them?” He inquired, watching Jeremy closely, the blonde man turned to look at his lap, opening his only hand._

_ “Yeah. Turns out the damn bastard killed that girl back in ‘81, too.” He responds, frowning, “He killed your cousin, Fritz, their bodies are in the old withered suits-- they’re **possessing** those old withered suits, but there’s nothing else that can be used against him.” He corrected then, “And to think that they’ve been right under our noses… I guess we didn’t realise it sooner because to most people, the supernatural is basically taboo.” He theorises, and Fritz just looks at him, quiet. _

_ “...You want me to report the bodies to the police?” He then asked, placing a hand to his face as Jeremy seemed to think, eyebrows furrowing as he picks at the fluff of the hospital blanket, eyes going half-lidded, the young eighteen year old could only click his tongue as he watched him, “We can at least ensure that the building is closed for a while then, maybe even force Mr. Afton to try and rebrand-- it would put a lot of pressure on the company as a whole, but..” _

_ “Could you?” Jeremy asked, “I planned to do that after my day shift, but…” He gestures to the stump where his arm once was, and Fritz can only cringe visibly at the reminder of what happened, “It’s better for them to at least be able to work without, well… crunching their own skin and bones.” _

_ “Ew, gross, don’t tell me that, I’ll do it-- just… get better soon, alright?” _

-^-

He takes a breath, hand raising to pinch the bridge of his nose-- God, his nerves were tied in knots, Freddy’s was so eerie-- he wondered how Jeremy lasted five nights here, especially considering the threats he spoke of; apparently the Toys were buggy, especially Mangle-- and so they were turned off for the night for maintenance in the morning, so Fritz had nothing to worry about ( or so he hoped ).

The mask and flashlight remained untouched on the desk as he looks to them, it was awfully clean-- as if someone had combed through it before he came to lock up and start the night, but with all things considering he wasn’t sure who-- a part of him sincerely hoped that it wasn’t William, Fritz couldn’t bear to wonder just what that asshole could be planning ( _especially_ after what he did ). It still irked him-- knowing that he couldn’t bring the man to justice, because even if the police found the bodies, nothing ties him to them-- it made him sick.

Fritz stands, ignoring the contents of the desk as he moves to the hallway, walking down it with careful steps and mindful glances; like a spy, he supposed ( he remembered when he and Oscar would play games like that ), he slows to a stop at the bend, closing his eyes and preparing himself-- mentally and physically, he didn’t want to be afraid of what he might find.

His hand reaches out as he walks to the Parts & Service door; placing it on the metal firmly before opening the door, coming face to… not-face with Withered Bonnie of all robots, Fritz paused, staring at the LED lights that were the rabbit’s eyes, before he seemed to soften with his expression, giving a little smile, something melancholic.

“...You were always his favourite.” He murmured, blinking hard and swallowing thickly as he straightened up, the bunny watched him, before leaning forward and stretching out his only arm--

\--And very gently running the back of it across his left cheek, Fritz blinked, the cool metal making itself evident, Bonnie stared, before leaning back, “Y… you. Were cry-- crying, Fritzy.” He spoke, and the boy’s eyes seem to widen as he looked at the larger being before him.

“...Oscar?” He whispered, voice cracking, the rabbit nodded, and Fritz breaks-- hands wrapping around the rabbit’s torso as his metal hand pats his back-- the eighteen year old heaved, hiccupping a little before talking a little bit too fast, “It’s-- he was right, you were here, God, I--!” He took a breath, pulling away from him despite his tears, “I missed you, March Hare.”

“And I-- I missed you, too, M-- Mad Hatter.” Oscar replied, Foxy seems to jump behind him, trying to look at the boy, “Aye-- is thi--this yer cousin?” Comes out, and Fritz blinked, giving a little smile and a wave.

“Yeah, I’m his cousin. You’re… Catherine, right? Jeremy told me you guys were in the robots.” He spoke, causing the fox to nod, the man smiled, and the two moved to the side, letting him in fully.

He looks to the tools around him, placing his hands on his hips, “Right,” he started, watching the four robots look to him whilst the golden bear near the wall laid limp, “I’m so gonna get fired for this, but-- let’s get your bodies out of those suits, you can look away if you want; we need to get this place closed the fuck down.”

“...P-- please never say that a--again.” Oscar deadpanned, and his cousin could only laugh as he set to work with what he needed to do-- grabbing what he needed and focusing first and foremost on Fredbear.

It took him until 5 AM to get those corpses out of the robots-- taking breaks to collect himself from the smells of the corpses, dear _God_ \-- he absolutely **abhorred** the stench, needing to step outside the room to calm his stomach down ( Oscar sympathetically patting his back as he did ), it was tough work, really-- but he managed to do it in the end, he wiped his nose in his sleeve despite it being dry-- heaving as he looked at the damage.

“Alright,” he murmured, holding up the phone he had taken from the front desk on his way in, “let’s get this place shut down.”

\---

Freddy Jr.’s had closed that very morning when the police came to retrieve the bodies, Fritz was questioned, but was deemed not involved, having only found the bodies and not being there the day the children had went missing-- they were planning on renovating, updating the old withered animatronics into newer models and scrapping the Toys-- good riddance, those things have been bugging since before Jeremy’s accident.

Henry held the flyer that William had given him; suspiciously eyeing the piece of paper with a frown as he heads home from the restaurant, his free hand in his coat pocket as he rounds the corner to his block-- he keeps walking, reading to himself as he walks up to his house-- heading inside to hear the twins arguing back and forth.

He sighs, taking a moment to just listen, smiling as Norah peeks into the corridor, “Hi, uncle Henry.” She spoke, smiling as the man walked over and ruffled her hair, “There’s my favourite niece,” he spoke warmly, “have the twins been good?”

“As good as they can be, Henry.” He hears, head looking up to see someone lean against the doorframe, muted purple eyes watching him, “Charlie’s been insisting on making the baby heads on their project _talk_.” Michael informed him, “They think they can make AI.” He added then, chuckling, Henry laughed-- something warm, “Ah, kids..” He responded, grinning-- they were always so odd in that regard.

“Oh, Michael-- here.” Henry replied, offering the man the flyer, “Got it out of that one weird magazine. You might be interested in it.” Michael takes it, giving a little nod, “Now, then,” Henry continued, looking to Norah, “c’mon, sweetpea-- let’s get started on dinner for Mikey and your cousins.” The little girl nodded eagerly, grabbing his hand and dragging him to the kitchen.

Michael looked over the flyer, eyebrows furrowing as he read it.

“Need to be eighteen or over, huh? I’m seventeen now.. I guess this could wait until I’m done with schooling.” He mused to himself, folding the paper and pocketing it before following Norah and Henry, “Wait for me!”

Besides… he could ask Henry if they should make some Eggs Benedict for brunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE DID IT GAMERS WE FINISHED THE FNAF 2 ARC, which means the next arc will be coming soon- and i can't wait to get started on it, considering it's my third favourite arc! i hope you've enjoyed it so far!


	15. April 29th, 1990.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Autocorrect really does suck, huh, Michael?

It was quiet in the household, Henry had taken the twins out for dinner and Norah had opted to stay with Michael-- her mother was checking in on her aunt, so she didn’t have much else to do-- so she had taken to sitting on the couch with him, back leaning on his arm as he flicked through the channels on TV.

“Is it true?” She asked then, causing the violet-eyed man to look at her, her own purple eyes locked with his own, “You got a job at the Rental building, right? The one where William’s robots are?” She added, blinking, a frown on her face. Michael seemed to pause, looking at the TV screen as he went quiet, thinking of how to word his answer.

“Yeah,” he started, “I start tonight, I’m a technician.” He explained, “I just… I guess I resolved myself to try and find out what happened to Lizzie back in ‘83.” Norah blinked at him, expression taking one of curiosity, “There’s a chance that, like Jeremy and Fritz said, she could be like the other kids.”

“Possessing a robot?” Norah asked, bringing her knees up to her chest, Michael nods, sighing, “I hope you find her, those robots… they have design flaws-- I can just tell from lookin’.” She replied, “I might not be smart in other areas, but… I know my robotics when I see it. And those robots… Mikey, I’m just glad you’re strong enough to fend them off.” At that notion, Michael raises a hand to ruffle Norah’s hair-- brown and fluffy, like his.

“I’ll be just fine, Norah! I promise.” He assured, grinning, “And if something were to happen to me? You’re perfectly obligated to sock me in the stomach.” He added, Norah turned to look at him, grinning almost cheekily at him, Michael internally regretted saying it-- but it was the best he could do to cheer up the little girl.

“Are you suuuure I can’t come with you?” She then asked, shifting to face him with an attempt to make puppy eyes; she reminded him of Elizabeth when she’d bug him for the ice cream tub at the top of the fridge, he shakes his head then, watching Norah deflate with a pout, folding her arms, “Mikey-- I want to help out! Y’know I love robotics and I really wanna see what flaws they have..”

The man could only give a raised eyebrow to his young companion, sighing, “No means no, Norah. I am not taking you there.” He poked her cheek, frowning, “It’s bad enough that you’ve already snuck out multiple times when you were smaller; I am not risking your well being like that again. Same goes for the twins-- Henry would grill them if he ever found out.” He snickered then, “The three of you are danger magnets, no offense.”

“Oh, shaddup--” Norah replied, shoving his hand gently, giving a little smile, “Alright, alright… I’ll let you go, just-- just come back safe, alright? People may joke that we look like siblings, but I _really_ do think of you as the big brother I never had.” She replied, “As long as you don’t die.”

Michael could only give a little nod as she turned her attention back to the TV; he supposed he had a long night ahead of him.

\---

The elevator was quite… claustrophobic, he guesses, it was dark, silent and slow as it let him down to the underground centre; Michael wasn’t sure if he should be on-guard or worried, because if he probably dies here, well-- he could say that his grave was already six feet under, then again, he didn’t want to get socked by one angry child ( she’d probably aim for the stomach, and Charlie would join in ).

Something yellow comes into his vision-- and Michael jumps a goddamn mile, “What the fuck--” 

“Welcome to the first day of your exciting new career! Whether you were approached at a job fair, read our ad in Screws, Bolts, and Hairpins, or if this is the result of a dare, we welcome you--” Oh, God, it was droning on, Michael needed to tune the blasted thing out. He looked at the posters, observing silently before he noticed the interface change on the device, “Please enter your name as seen above the keypad. This cannot be changed later, so, please be careful.”

Can’t be changed later, huh? Michael pressed his mouth into a thin line and tapped the interface a couple times, watching it bug out with an annoyed expression, frowning as he watched the device work its magic.

“It seems that you had some trouble with the keypad. I see what you were trying to type, and I will autocorrect it for you. One moment.”

A beat.

“Welcome-- Eggs Benedict.” Michael could only stare; flabbergasted at the device in front of him, purple eyes wide and disbelieving; what the **_FUCK_ **was that autocorrect? He just gives a tired sigh as he looks at it, guess this is his life now-- forever being referred to as Eggs Benedict-- God, Norah and Charlie would have gotten a kick out of this.

He feels the elevator stop, and the HandUnit-- that was its name, right?-- speak again, to which he mainly tuned it out ( because holy fuck, it was grating his ears ), he did listen to its request of leaving the elevator, to which he pressed the red button, squinted at the vent in front of him before shaking his head and sighing, crouching down and crawling in.

“Allow me to fill this somewhat frightening silence with some lighthearted banter.” He hears and he just groans, continuing to crawl-- tuning the damn thing out as it rambled on about the robots being rented out-- a part of him thought it was weird, really; why rent them out? They were dangerous, he thought… so why?

He sees the end of the vent, and crawls out-- standing up and stretching as he hears the HandUnit speak overhead-- his hands go to his hips as he looks around.

“You are now in the primary Control Module; it's actually a crawlspace between the two front showrooms.” The yellow digital demon spoke, Michael muttered something to himself, something along the lines of ‘why do you need this’, or something, 

“Now, let's get started with your daily tasks. View the window to your left. This is the Ballora Gallery: Party Room and Dance Studio, encouraging kids to get fit and enjoy pizza! Let's turn on the light and see if Ballora is onstage. Press the blue button on the elevated keypad to your left.” The voice commanded, and Michael sighed deeply, pressing the blue button as he peered through the window-- cringing when he saw no one on stage-- to him, that wasn’t a good thing, “Uh oh! It looks like Ballora doesn't feel like dancing.” The yellow device chirped, to which Michael cringed, “Let's give her some motivation. Press the red button now to administer a controlled shock. Maybe that will put the spring back in her step.”

“A controlled shock?” He mumbled, looking at the red button, this… was completely against his moral code; he didn’t want to shock a robot; if they’re anything like the Fazband then… he sighed, steeling himself and pressing the button-- watching the window light up a few times.

“Let's check the light again.” The HandUnit suggests, and Michael presses the button; seeing the ballerina twirl on stage ( he felt his heart grow a little heavy, he remembered that mom loved to dance before she died when the twins came ), “Excellent. Ballora's feeling like her old self again and will be ready to perform again tomorrow.” He ignored the device for a moment, watching Ballora twirl with a melancholic expression.

“Now, view the window to your right. This is the Funtime Auditorium; where Funtime Foxy encourages kids to play and share. Try the light! Let's see what Funtime Foxy is up to.” The Unit advised, and Michael obliges-- a hand pressing the blue button to light up the Auditorium, seeing no sign of movement on stage, “Looks like Funtime Foxy is taking the day off. Let's motivate Funtime Foxy with a controlled shock.”

He presses the red button, watching the Auditorium light up once, twice, before checking the light-- and seeing nothing there-- he hears the HandUnit suggest another shock, and he does so, closing his eyes when the window lights up a few times, he takes a breath, slow and steady before he checks the light once more; seeing the fox on stage brought him some form of relief.

“Looks like Funtime Foxy is in perfect working order. Great job! In front of you is another vent shaft. Crawl through it to reach the Circus Gallery Control Module.” Michael needed a moment to collect himself; he never really minded the robots, sure-- but the one in that room… it unnerved him-- it was there the day Josh got bitten, as well as when Lizzie went missing; and he was positive that thing was different than before.

He shakes his head, heading into the vent and crawling through the metal toward the Circus Control Module; and once there, he stands, noting how dark it is. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it, but he knew that it put him on guard for sure.

“On the other side of the glass is Circus Baby's auditorium. Let's check the light and see what Baby is up to.” He hears, and the man sighed simply, pressing the blue button-- it was so dark, he couldn’t even see Baby, or the stage-- so he wasn’t sure where she might even be, “Looks like a few of the lights are out, but we can fix that later.” Michael visibly rolls his eyes; a few? Looks like the whole light system is busted in that room, but regardless, the device continues, “Let's encourage Baby to cheer up with a controlled shock.”

Michael sighed, pressing the button to shock the robot-- seeing the window light up dimly, but not seeing too much, before checking the lights again-- shuddering when the HandUnit speaks once more.

“Let’s try another controlled shock.” It ordered, and Michael could only shake his head as he zapped the robot again-- checking once more once the shocks were over-- looking at the ceiling with a tired expression when the Unit speaks once more; to once again shock Circus Baby, he huffed, repeating the order of which he pressed the buttons. He didn’t like having to shock the robots-- it would probably irritate them-- but he couldn’t help it.

“Great job, Circus Baby. We knew we could count on you! That concludes your duties for your first night on the job. We don't want you to leave overwhelmed; otherwise, you might not come back. Please leave using the vent behind you, and we'll see you again tomorrow.” His shoulders untense, and Michael seems to stare into the abyss of the window for a moment, expression softening, he raises a gloved hand to press against it, letting out a soft sigh.

“...I’m going to find out what happened to you, Elizabeth.” He spoke gently, “I promise.” He retracted his hand, and made his departure, unknowing to the girl who sat next to the robot on her stage, eyes tearing and practically beaming-- Elizabeth was ecstatic to know her brother was trying to find her.

“I missed you, Mikey.” She whispered to no one in particular, before wiping her eyes with her sleeves, “I hope you can come save me-- it’s so lonely here… I’mma keep you safe, I promise you that.”

And she meant it, too; because Lizzie truly did love her brother at the end of the day.

\---

“Another day, another dramatic entry in the lives of Vlad and his distressed mistress!” He hears as he walked in, closing the door behind him as he peeked into the living room, he sees Norah and Sammy sitting on the couch, Sammy holding a popcorn tub in his lap as his eyes remained fixated on the screen, Michael enters the room, taking a seat next to Norah as he witnesses the back and forth arguments between the vampire and woman about a baby.

“Y-- you know,” Sammy piped up, almost thoughtful, “This k-- kinda sounds like… your situation, Norah-- like, you-- you’re the baby in this.” He explained meekly, Norah blinked, looking to him as Michael raised an eyebrow.

“You’re not wrong,” she started, “I mean-- I never knew my dad, so I guess he didn’t want me-- or something.” She took a popcorn kernel from the tub, popping it in her mouth, Sammy put his hand to his own mouth in thought, frowning as Michael snagged a piece of popcorn for himself, the younger twin then looked between the two, before opening his mouth.

“C-- Charlie bets, that your dad is-- is probably Mr. Afton.” He stated, “‘Cause-- you an’ Mikey look re-- really similar.” He gestures to his hair and eyes, “You l-- look nothin’ like auntie Amity, Norah, you pro'lly got your looks from you-- your dad.”

Michael gave a hum of thought then, “Well, even if my father was her dad, that wouldn’t change anything, would it?” He spoke, causing the two to look at him, “I mean… think about it like this-- at the end of the day, it’s not going to change my views or anything, Norah's a good kid, so are you-- sometimes, family doesn't need to be blood-related.”

“I guess so.” Norah replied, taking another piece of popcorn, “But if I were related to William… I guess it’d explain the talent with robotics, huh-- oh, and if it’s actually the truth, I’d like to talk to him-- I’ll steal his shins for not being a good dad in general.” The comment caused laughter between the three, and Michael gave a smile.

“Well, anyways… was work okay, Mikey?” Norah inquired then, “Any robot troubles?” Michael paused, thinking on an answer before chuckling,

“It went just fine, Norah, I was just learning the ropes-- nothing more or nothing less.” He responded, “Besides, I’m not in any real danger.” Yet, he adds mentally.

Norah rolled her eyes, tossing a piece of popcorn at him, “Well, regardless-- come watch this show with us, we’ve been binging it for the past hour. I think you’d like it.” She replied, Sammy holds out the popcorn tub to the man, who took a piece, thanking him.

He supposed he needed to wind down from his first shift, anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go.... first chapter of the sisloc arc!! we are in for a fun fun time and i am happy with how this chapter turned out!! hope you've enjoyed, and we'll be seeing some more of the robots soon enough :D


	16. The Crawlspace.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael has no idea what he's doing.

Michael was kind of regretting signing up for this job now, standing in the elevator quietly as he watched the walls outside go by; his descent only made him more nervous-- after all, it wasn’t like his father made things all that comforting down here.

“Welcome back to another night of intellectual stimulation, pivotal career choices, and self-reflection on past mistakes.” The man puts his head in his hands, groaning-- great, _that_ fucking thing is back-- it’s going to haunt him for the rest of his days, he’s sure, “We're committed to creating a unique and fulfilling work experience. One part of that commitment is ensuring that you don't get tired of the voice that you're hearing right now. Using the keypad below, please select a new companion voice. For male, press one. For female, press one. For text only, press three. For other options, press four.”

Michael looks up, eyes narrowed at the device that flipped up in front of him, “There’s not even any numbers, dipshit.” He murmured, he curses his father mentally; why did he have to build such a stupid piece of AI? His fingers reach out, and goes to try and insert a number-- he wanted text only, because the voice is grating and he wanted it **gone**.

“It seems that you had some trouble with the keypad. I see what you were trying to type, and I will autocorrect it for you.” And that was when Michael realised he most likely made a huge mistake, “Thank you for choosing; Angsty Teen.” The most comical facepalm then proceeds to take place as he sighed.

There’s silence as the elevator goes down-- before slowly coming to a stop, Michael paused, seeming to stare at the vent again before rubbing his arm, overhead does he hear the new voice speak; “The elevator's stopped. You know the routine. Get out now, or whatever. Stay here if you want.”

“God, I wish.” He replied, crouching and beginning to crawl, he still wondered just why exactly they needed vents and such, with all things considering-- it’s entirely possible for children to get through these if they were allowed here-- but he disregards his thoughts, continuing on his way.

“So, funny story, a dead body was found in this vent once. M'kay, so, not that funny, but, it's a story.” And Michael just begins crawling faster, that is disgusting, and he does not want to deal with that, _thank you very much_.

Once in the Control Module, he gets up, looking around as the voice asks him to, well… basically do as he did yesterday; he focuses on Ballora-- pressing the blue button-- and jumps a mile when he sees her shadow over the window, “Huh...I guess Ballora has better things to do. Let's zap her! That should be fun.” Michael glares at the ceiling, frowning.

“God, you are the fucking worst.” He whispered, before pressing the red button for the shock; flinching when he hears something… garbled, in the air, “Ah..--” He rubbed his ears, frowning, “What the fuuuuuck..”

“Let's check on Funtime Foxy, make sure he's ready for showtime tomorrow.” He hears then, and Michael internally wonders what it was with pink and white foxes and their ever-switching pronouns, before tapping the blue button.

“Great…. Great…. Great…”

“I-- Excuse me, what the shit is happening anymore??” He points, making a vague gesture as he looks up at the ceiling, “Are you _dead_ , Handyman?”

“There seems to have been a problem with the voice synthesizer. Default settings have been restored. Please proceed through the vent ahead of you to Circus Baby's Auditorium.” Comes the response-- Michael audibly swears, he was hoping it got bugged out and shut off.

He sighs, however, following orders and heading to the next area, looking around again as he stands in the middle of the room, “Circus Baby had a busy day today. Let's check the light and make sure she's in proper working order.” HandUnit spoke, and Michael does so-- still seeing nothing-- all he could do was watch and wait, eyebrows furrowed.

“Oh, Circus Baby! We aren't here to play hide and seek. Let's encourage Baby to come out of hiding with a controlled shock.” He frowned, a look of disdain on his face as he pressed the shock button-- only for it to not work.

He raises an eyebrow, looking quite frankly rather concerned with that, the HandUnit, however, requested another controlled shock-- which Michael tried to do-- but to no avail, as the button just seems to bug out and not work.

“There seems to be a power malfunction that is affecting our ability to properly motivate Baby. Please stand by while I reboot the system. I will be offline momentarily during this process. Various other systems may be offline as well, such as security doors, vent locks, and oxygen.” The device informed, and Michael has to do a double-take, oxygen? _IT’S TAKING THE FUCKING OXYGEN_?

“You have got to be joking--”

“Commencing system restart.”

“ **Fuck** \--” It goes darker, and Michael just wheezes, he hates this, thanks, he hates this so goddamn much, he stands in place for a moment, listening anxiously for anything that moved-- he could hear the motion triggers going off, and the poor man could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand-- he can vaguely hear something crawling, until a voice rises in the dark.

“I don’t recognize you. You are new.” A female, soft and gentle-- Michael blinked hard-- who was that, even? “I remember this scenario. However, it’s a strange thing to want to do, to come here. I’m curious what events will lead a person to want to spend their nights in a place like this, _willingly_.”

Well, now he feels insulted, but he keeps quiet.

Regardless, she continued; “Maybe curiosity, maybe ignorance. There is a space under the desk, someone before you crafted it into a hiding place and it worked for him.” She informed, and Michael crouches to feel for the crawlspace-- grabbing the hatch with a raised eyebrow.

“I recommend that you hurry though. You will be safe there, just try not to make eye contact, it will be over soon. They will lose interest.” He cringed, and obliged, heading into the crawlspace; it was small, but it was able to fit him quite well, after all-- he grabs the shutter, pulling it over and closing him in-- he could see out the holes, but for his own sanity… he didn’t, simply biting the inside of his cheek and keeping as silent as possible.

He almost hits his head on the ceiling when he hears a little child call out; “He-llo in there…?” Michael’s free hand covered his mouth, purple eyes widening as he stared at the ends of the shutter-- not the holes, he’d never look at the holes-- he hears someone running a metallic finger across the surface, holding his breath.

“Someone is inside,” Someone else comments, and Michael tenses-- there were more than one?-- whoever was outside… sounded like bad news, “is it the same person?” They asked, and Michael hears banging, sharp and ear-piercing, he wasn’t sure where from, but he didn’t like it, it stops, and then there’s a soft ‘knock, knock…’

Before the shutter starts getting forced open. Michael swears he had never moved so fast in his life to keep that damn thing shut. Eventually, they let go, and Michael slams the cover down as quickly as possible, breathing a bit heavily from the burst of adrenaline he just had.

“We always find a way inside.” The first voice whispered, and Michael once again found himself struggling against whatever was trying to open the shutter, his finger locked around one of the holes in it-- which ultimately helps him shut it back up again. He turns quiet, trying to calm himself from the terror in the depths of his rapidly-beating heart.

“She’s watching us,” came a panicked whisper for the first voice, “we have to leave now!” He hears running, and the second voice pipes up, “We’ll see you again soon!” Before it follows-- it goes quiet, and Michael appreciates it-- resting his forehead on his crossed arms and heaving-- he wasn’t getting enough money for this shit.

“When your guide comes back online, he is going to tell you that he was unsuccessful, that you must restart the system manually.” He relaxes, but he doesn’t look happy as he pulls the shutter open to crawl out, “He will then tell you to crawl through Ballora Gallery as fast as you can to reach the Breaker Room. If you follow his instructions, you will die. Ballora will not return to her stage anymore, she will catch you.” Ah, lovely, apparently his father seems to want everyone dead in general if he programmed the HandUnit for this shit.

He crawled out of the shutter, sitting there as she continued, “The power will be restored shortly. When you crawl through Ballora Gallery, go slowly. She can not see you and can only listen for your movement. When you hear her music become louder, she is growing near, listening for you. Wait and be still.” The voice informed, before a loud beep rings out, Michael takes a breath.

“Thank you for your patience. it seems that the power system cannot be restarted automatically. You will need to restart the power system manually. Please return to the primary control module.” The man could only sigh, doing as he was told, crawling through the vent into the main room as the HandUnit continues, “You will now be required to crawl through the Ballora gallery using the vent to your left to reach the breaker room.”

_The audacity_ , Michael thinks, though the thought is quickly drowned out by the device once more.

“It is recommended that you stay low to the ground, and reach the other side as fast as possible, as to not disturb Ballora. I will deactivate myself momentarily, as to not create an auditory disturbance. Deactivating…” And so he hears it shut down, and he mutters a curse at it before he slips through the maintenance vent to Ballora Gallery.

It’s dark, and quiet, and so Michael crawls, pausing whenever he sees the ballerina robot twirl into his view; he was silent, hands clamped over his mouth as he watched the animatronic move and spin-- he can still vaguely remember his mother, swirling and spinning him around whilst he laughed-- and he continues to crawl right to the breaker room.

He hears the motion trigger set off when he enters the room, leaning his back against the closed door with a relieved sigh-- oh, dear God, he was a bundle of nerves-- and he looks around when the HandUnit spoke once more.

“You may now interface with the breaker control box. Using the interface may disrupt nearby electronics. If you feel that you are in danger, feel free to disconnect the interface temporarily, until it is safe to reconnect.” The device informs him, and Michael reaches out to the breaker box, taking the tablet and beginning to work his way through the systems-- though he quickly slammed it down when he hears it.

_“I s-see you over there in the dark! Co-Come on out!”_

Oh, **hell** no, Michael swallowed thickly, looking around-- he sees the damn bear moving around in the darkness, and his finger raises-- pressing a small button on the breaker box.

_“Shhh! It's bedtime, let's go back to our stage!”_ He hears-- and he can only assume it was the hand-puppet, his eyes remained on the bear as he watches them move back to his starting position-- and he returns to the tablet, resetting systems left and right whilst keeping an eye on the purple-white bear, watching his every move and sending him back when he absolutely needed to.

_“Hey, Bon-Bon! I thi-think that's the birthday boy over there-ere! We should go give him a SURPRISE!”_

_ “Oh, calm down, I think it was just a mouse!” _

Back and forth, _back and forth_...

He wasn’t sure how long he was taking, but he heard it-- finally, the sweet release of freedom.

“Great job. This completes your tasks for the night. Please proceed back through the Ballora gallery with care, and we'll see you back here tomorrow.” Michael let out a soft sigh as he exited the room, crouching and entering a crawl as he made his way across the Gallery-- all the whilst hearing the ballerina sing.

_ “Why do you hide inside your walls? _

_ When there is music in my halls…” _

Michael knows the words; he knows them well, still making his way across the floor, nearing the vent does he pause when she speaks.

“Is someone there?” Her voice echoes, “I could hear someone, creeping through my room…”

A pause.

“Perhaps… not.”

Michael let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, and headed out, as quickly as he could.

The ghostly girl could only watch him as he left, a melancholic smile on her face.

Elizabeth couldn’t wait to see her brother again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> extra long chapter for yall... hope you enjoy it!! i also have a little question for yall- would you like me to make a curious cat or tumblr for you to ask questions abt the characters, and maybe see some designs? lmk!! i hope you've enjoyed this chapter nonetheless and i'll be posting the third night asap <3


	17. Parts & Service.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He never left the building that night.

“Welcome back to another pivotal night of your thriving new career, where you get to really ask yourself, "what am I doing with my life? What would my friends say, and most importantly, will I ever see my family again?" We understand the stresses of a new job, and we’re here for you.” Was the first thing he heard when descending down on the elevator; Michael could only sigh as he stood there, looking practically tired of the device’s talk, it’s only been two nights-- and he’d kill the device if he had the chance.

“To help you reach a more stable and relaxing frame of mind, we offer several musical selections to help make this elevator ride as relaxing and therapeutic as possible. We offer contemporary jazz, classical, rainforest ambiance as well as a wide selection of other choices. Using the keypad below, please type the first few letters of the musical selection you would prefer.” It continues; and the little yellow keypad flips up in front of him, the man raises his hand to try and type what he wanted-- except, well, it didn’t get him very far.

“It seems you had some trouble with the keypad. I see what you were trying to type, and I will auto-correct it for you.” A pause as he interpreted the mishmash of letters he typed, “Thank you for selecting; Casual Bongos.”

He blinked, an eyebrow raising at the sound of pretty funky music filling the air; it was.... Okay, he supposed-- it wasn’t his cup of tea, sure ( he preferred rock, personally )-- but he could deal, he does this… really stupid little jig to himself as the elevator goes down.

“Now that your elevator experience has been customized to your needs, and your thoroughly relaxed, it’s worth mentioning that due to your lackluster performance yesterday, your pay has been decreased by a substantial amount. Please enjoy the rest of your descent.” _WELL._ THAT WAS RUDE. Michael could only huff at the proclamation as he stood there-- that wasn’t even his fault that the systems didn’t work!

The elevator stops-- and the door opens, letting Michael exit and crawl through the vents-- once at the primary Control Module, the HandUnit speaks once more, “Due to unforeseen malfunctions from today’s shows, your nightly duties will require you to perform maintenance that you may or may not be skilled enough to perform.” He took the job as a technician, dammit, of course he’d be skilled enough, “It became necessary for technicians to attempt to disconnect Funtime Freddy’s power module. However, they were unsuccessful.”

“Of course…” He sighed, placing his hands on his hips as the device continues, the man’s purple eyes glancing around the area almost warily.

“Allowing them to try again would be an inefficient path forward, as we would need to allow six to eight weeks for recovery and physical therapy.” THERAPY? Why would they need therapy?! Michael can only just internally scream at the concept-- he hated it-- “You will need to reach the Parts and Service room on the other side of Funtime Auditorium to perform the procedure yourself. Let’s check on Ballora first, and make sure she’s on her stage.”

He sighed, pressing the blue button-- eyes widening when he sees Ballora in… _pieces_ , her little minions ( what the fuck were those things ) holding her body parts and parading as though they’ve accomplished the impossible, he retracted his hand, pale as the HandUnit continued.

“Great, it looks like everything is as it should be in Ballora Gallery. Let’s check on Funtime Foxy. It’s important to make sure she’s on her stage before entering.” It speaks, and he does so, looking worried when he sees nothing on stage, only growing more nervous when he hears HandUnit keep talking, “Great, it looks like everything is as it should be in Funtime Auditorium. There is no need to check on Baby tonight; please refrain from entering unauthorized areas. Proceed directly to Funtime Auditorium.”

Yet… the Circus Gallery vent opens, and Michael couldn’t help himself-- his job could wait a little bit-- crawling through the vent and entering the room, before tucking himself into the crawlspace almost curiously, now that he looked at it-- the metal on the shutter seemed rather weak.

“Did you know that I was on stage once? It wasn’t for very long, only one day. What a wonderful day, though. I was in a small room with balloons and a few tables.” He hears, and he listens, frowning, “No-one sat at the tables, though, but children would run in and out. Some were afraid of me, others enjoyed my songs. Music was always coming from somewhere else, down a hall.”

He wasn’t sure what she was speaking of; last he could remember, she was there on the twins’ birthday, but he wasn’t sure what happened after, regardless, Baby continued.

“ I would always count the children; I’m not sure why. I was always acutely aware of how many there were in the room with me. Two, then three, then two, then three, then four, then two, then none. They usually played together in groups of two or three.” Did they? Michael seems to think to himself as he laid there, “I was covered in glitter. I smelled like birthday cake. There were two, then three, then five, then four. I can do something special, did you know that? I can make ice cream, although I only did it once.”

Ice… cream? That’s been ruined for him since Lizzie went missing, it was what they had found on her bow; spoiled vanilla ice cream.

“There were four, then three, then two, then one. Something happened when there was one.” She added, “A little girl, standing by herself. I was no longer myself. And I stopped singing. My stomach opened and there was ice cream. I couldn’t move, at least not until she stepped closer.”

Michael’s eyes widened, no. _No-- it can’t be._

“There was screaming for a moment, but only for a moment. Then other children rushed in again, but they couldn’t hear her over the sounds of their own excitement.” His hands go to his mouth; Michael felt sick, no-- _no_ , not _her_ , it can’t be her.

“I still hear her sometimes. Why did that happen?” Baby wondered, and Michael choked on a sob; oh, God.

_Oh, Elizabeth,_ he thinks, _I’m so goddamn sorry._

He’s unaware of the ghost next to him as he gets up and out of the crawlspace, wiping his eyes-- the girl places a pale, transparent hand on his back gently, she, too, was crying-- but she couldn’t say anything.

He heads out of the room, and made his way towards Funtime Auditorium, the HandUnit overhead finally beginning to talk.

“Unlike Ballora, Funtime Foxy is motion-activated. For this reason, it’s important to keep the room dark, as to not accidentally activate her. You have been provided with a flash beacon.” He looked at the little controller on his glove, “Use it if you need to get your bearings and to ensure you don’t bump into anything. However, use it as sparingly as possible. Proceed forward to reach the Parts and Service room.”

And so begins his trek across the room, he had developed a pattern; three quick steps, flash the beacon, so on, so forth, at some point, he was face-to-face with the pink and white fox themself, and Michael could swear he had to wait at least five minutes for the bloody robot to move away. It took what felt like forever, but finally…

“Great job reaching Parts and Service! It seems that Funtime Freddy is out of power, which should make your job much easier.” It starts, making no effort to wait as Michael studies the bear and his hand-puppet, “The release switch for the chest cavity is located on the underside of the endoskeleton jaw. To reach it, we will first need to open the face-plates. You will need to press the face-plate release triggers in a specific order, and it’s important to be as precise and as careful as possible. Locate the small button on Freddy’s face, just under his right cheek, and press it.”

He does so, beginning to listen to the Unit as he traces his finger across the bear’s face to feel for the buttons, he was meticulous, and once pressing the correct combination of buttons does he jerk back when the faceplates open; Michael heaved.

“Good job! The face-plates should now be open. Locate and press the small button on the underside of Freddy’s endoskeleton jaw.” The HandUnit seemed to praise, Michael pressed the button, jumping when the bear’s chest cavity opened, “Excellent. The chest cavity should now be open. Remove the power module from the chest cavity.” He bit the inside of his cheek as he grabbed the little thing, quiet, “Great work. You will now be required to remove the secondary power module from the Bonnie hand-puppet. Press the large black button beneath Bonnie’s bow-tie to release the power module.”

He looked up-- and his eyes went wide as he noticed the puppet was gone; and Michael takes a moment to breathe, calming himself down as he begins to search, in the corner of his eye does he notice the rabbit slowly peek out from behind the powered-off bear, and he waits, silent, counting until he reaches out and snatches the puppet.

He watched it squirm in his hands for a moment, and closed his eyes, he murmurs an apology before he presses the button, feeling it go limp.

“Great job. You’ve acquired both power modules. This completes your tasks for the night. Please exit the building through Funtime Auditorium, and we’ll see you back here again tomorrow.” He places the hand-puppet back on the bear’s hand before quietly making his way out of the room.

It was dark, but Michael moved as carefully as he could, making barely any noise-- but to no avail, as one moment, it was dark, and the next, there was a foxy, screaming in his face-- face plates open to strike.

Michael blacked out, and Elizabeth could only watch, panicked as the robots seem to drag her brother off to the room she hated the most.

\---

“Where is he?” The young girl asked, legs crossed on the couch as Sammy popped a gummy bear in his mouth, Charlotte laid upside-down on the couch next to her twin, eyes staring at the clock in the room, “He should have been back an hour ago!” Norah whined, pulling her knees to her chest as she gave a worried expression.

“Do you think he’s still there?” Charlotte asked, hands interlocked over her abdomen as she crossed one of her feet over the other, planting the bottom foot firmly against the wall, “Like… no offence, he’s not stupid enough to walk out on us all, but he’s not smart enough to get the heck outta dodge immediately.”

“R… really? Then-- then he might still… be there?” Sammy suggested, and the three proceeded to look between one another.

“...I won’t tell uncle Henry if we sneak out to find him if you guys don’t.” Norah spoke, and the twins grinned.

“I dibs on packing snacks.” Charlie added, “You guys can pack flashlights and stuff--!”

“G… Guess we-- we’re gonna go on a search mission.” Sammy piped up, “W-- we can do it.”

Norah nodded, stretching, “Well, then…”

**“Let’s get to work.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ya-yeet,,,, angst time huh! here we have michael being an idiot and needed two twelve year olds and an eight year old to find him


	18. Springlock Suits.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Try not to wiggle.

The first thing he felt when he woke up was pain. A dull ache that throbbed in the back of his mind when he tried to focus-- he could barely see, it was so dark and he had absolutely no clue where he was-- not to mention, he was not comfy in the slightest, he could feel metal, poking him practically everywhere; it was something that told him that he was most likely in some form of danger.

He opens his mouth to call for someone-- anyone-- but he was promptly cut off by an all-too familiar voice.

“Sssshhh, be still and quiet. You’ve been sleeping for quite a while. I think they noticed that you never left the building last night. The cameras were searching for you, but they couldn’t find you. I have you hidden too well.” Wait, what? His eyes were wide, and he couldn’t help but tense inside whatever he was in, “I kidnapped you.”

Well. Guess there’s a first time for everything, he thinks. His eyes glance around to what he could see; multiple twisting mechanisms, knobs, he believes, there’s a lot of them, too. He doesn’t panic; for his own sake.

“Don’t be afraid, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m only going to keep you for a little while. Try not to wiggle, though. You’re inside something that came from my old pizzeria. I don’t think it was ever used, at least not the way it was meant to be used. Too dangerous. It’s just big enough for one person to fit inside, but just barely.” Ah, so he’ll probably get stabbed by multiple little locks that will give him a slow and painful death. Lovely, this day couldn’t get any worse, could it?

“You’re in the Scooping Room. Do you know why they call it the Scooping Room? It’s because, dummy, this is the room where they use the scooper. I thought that would be obvious. Isn’t that a fun name for something? The scooper. It sounds like something you would use for ice cream or custard or sprinkles.” The man could only raise an eyebrow as he sat there.

That’s certainly one way to put it, he thought, also; what’s with this robot and ice cream?

“It sounds like something you would want at your birthday party to ensure that you get a heaping portion of every good thing. I wonder, though, if you were a freshly opened pint of ice cream, how you would feel about something with that name. Thankfully, I don’t think a freshly opened pint of ice cream feels anything at all.” She rambles, and it’s something that vaguely reminds Michael of Elizabeth herself; the two of them would always sit down and he’d listen to her chatter his ear off with topics she comes out with.

Baby speaks again, voice even, “Uh-oh. It sounds like someone else is in the building. Sssshhh.” Michael makes a face; one that could only be described as a mix between sucking on a lemon and looking mighty tired.

He goes quiet, however, when he hears a voice-- no, two voices-- engaged in a conversation.

“Okay, bring her over. Forward. More. Mooooore. OK, stop. Set her down. Watch the step.” He hears one, bored and tired of his job, he sounded older than him; then again, Michael is only twenty years of age.

“What happened to it this time? It just seems like these things can't go a day without breakin' down.” The second, uneasy and younger, seeming to have an accent, he thinks. Michael remains silent, not moving a muscle as he hears vague shuffling.

“Who knows? It's always the same, man. Some kinda hardware malfunction.” The first says, the man in the suit seemed to muse to himself-- hardware malfunction, huh?-- it was weird, listening to others in the building when he’s usually the only living person there.

“Well, like I have to be somewhere in 15 minutes, and this place gives me the creeps. Can we just get this over with?” The second speaks then, and Michael sticks his tongue out-- sounds like a coward to him-- he just seems to wait for them to finish, frowning.

“It's all automated. We don't have to be here for it. Just get her on the rollers and we can go.” The man debates on opening his mouth and calling-- but he closes his mouth, hearing the sound of a conveyor belt begin to work, and soon his vision shows Ballora; the ballerina powered off and sleeping.

“There is something very important that I’ve learned how to do over time, do you know what that is? How to pretend. Do you ever play make believe? Pretend to be one way when you are really the other?” Baby spoke up, “It’s very important. Ballora never learns, but I do.”

Three beeps, loud and clear, as Michael witnesses something crash into the ballerina, once, twice-- maybe three times-- he choked on air a little, eyes wide as he watched the robot get destroyed right in front of his eyes.

“They think there is something wrong on the inside. The only thing that matters is knowing... how... to... pretend.” Slow, methodical, does she speak to him-- Michael could only really register half of that, as he had begun to panic a small bit-- but she keeps talking, “I’ll open the faceplates for you. That way they can find you on the cameras. Now all you have to do is wait.” Next thing he knew, Michael could see everything; the mask obscuring some of his vision had gone.

There was a beat, and then she giggled.

“I’d recommend that you keep the springlocks wound up. Your breathing and your heartbeat are causing them to come loose. You don’t want them to get too loose, trust me.” With that… she seemed to go quiet, and Michael took a sharp breath, pulling himself down from the bundle of nerves he had gained before beginning to tighten the springlocks, eyebrows furrowing.

That’s when he began to notice the small, mannequin-like robots crawling up the suit and inside-- his breath hitched a moment-- and he shifted, causing the suit to wiggle… and some of those robots to fall off. Well-- at least he had a vague idea on what to do now.

“Alright,” he whispered, pushing back a Minireena trying to climb into the front of the suit with his hand, “guess I’ll need to multitask.”

He just hoped that help would come soon as the little demons clambered all over him and the suit.

\---

“Are you sure this is really the right way?” Norah asked her cousin, frowning as Charlotte adjusted her backpack, it had taken them a while for the three of them to get ready, walk over to the facility and figure out how to get in, but… they’re there, in the elevator, with Sammy fiddling with the keypad inside, Charlotte thumbed a part of her backpack strap, expression blank as she stood there.

“It’s the only way we got, Nore.” The older girl replied, watching the floors go by as they descend down into the abyss, Sammy looked to them, quietly seeming to think about something as they went down, the silence was tense, it was something these children weren’t used to; after all, the only place they’ve entered after hours was Freddy Jr.’s, but that was back in ‘87, whilst here, they were going underground with barely any way back up.

“I-- I think,” Sammy spoke up, “that… that he has to be here. It’s-- where he said he was wor-- workin’, right?” He finished, tilting his head as he watched them both, Charlotte and Norah look between one another, and nodded, the boy grinned, “S… so-- we’ll do our best, ‘kay?”

Charlie nods, grinning ear-to-ear whilst Norah just gave a little laugh, the elevator slows to a stop, and the door opens-- the three can only stare at the vent in front of them-- and Charlie lets out a tired sigh, “Vents?” She asked, “Seriously?”

“William seems to have a thing with vents.” Norah observed, walking over and crouching near the entrance inside, “Let’s go in-- it’s the only way in we have.” With that, she crawls on in, with the twins in pursuit of her.

Once in the Control Module, the trio seemed to look around, Norah had begun to poke and prod at the little mechanisms around the place, laughing a bit at the sounds they made, Sammy had to snap his fingers by her head to get her attention, “D-- don’t get distracted.”

Charlie seemed to be looking at the window to the Auditorium, eyes narrowed, “Wh..?” She shuffled closer, and squinted, she could swear that she could see someone inside-- and her eyes suddenly snapped wide.

“Guys, look.” She whispered, ushering the two younger kids to the window, the three peer in; witnessing a girl on her knees, face in her hands as she seemed to cry, Norah blinked hard, before looking to the twins, “We.. should go help her, right-?” She asked softly, which caused the two to nod.

And so they slip through the vent to the room, Norah heading over to the girl with a frown, “Um, hey..” She called, kneeling as well, “Are… are you okay?”

The girl looked up and towards her, green eyes tearfully seeming to focus, _“You can see me?”_ She asked, looking quite surprised, Norah nodded, and the ghost took a breath, _“I.. I-- I’m okay, um-- just, my brother… my brother’s in there.”_ Her transparent hand raises, pointing towards a door to the opposite of them, _“Please-- please, you have to save him, he might get hurt.”_ She pleaded, and the twins looked between one another, before Sammy grabbed Norah’s shoulder.

The eight year old stands, dusting off her knees, “Let’s go.” She replied quietly, and so the trio opened the door to the room.

It was too dark for them to see the full room-- but Charlie seemed to focus on sounds, she places a hand on the wall and begins to walk across the room, mindful of anything around her, the other two seem to follow her lead, and Norah seemed to stop for a moment to pick something up from the floor before resuming her following.

Once Charlie came near the source of the noise, she reached behind her to place a hand against Sammy’s chest, “Flashlight.” She whispered, and the boy nodded, handing her the one that was clipped to his backpack, Charlie takes a breath, and switches it on.

All three of them have to do a double-take when they see Michael inside a springlock suit, he blinks rapidly, eyes adjusting to the light as he looks at the kids, his expression shifts from surprise, to disappointment. The kids could only give sheepish grins as he sighed.

Charlie hands the flashlight to Sammy, and pulls something out of her pocket-- the hand crank she got from Jeremy back in ‘87. She climbed behind the suit, careful as she did, and began to try and wind up the locks and open the suit.

“How the heck are you kids here-?” Michael asked quietly, to which Norah gave a toothy grin, “We came to look for you, we got in the elevator.” She replied, the man could only sigh before his gaze turned to the thing in her hands; a Minireena, who seemed rather calm despite the vice-grip of the eight year old, it was something Michael doesn’t question, though.

The suit begins to pop, and compartments begin to open-- Michael relaxed as the suit freed him, and he climbed out quickly-- you could never be too careful with those damn suits, Charlie swung herself back from behind the costume, landing on the floor expertly with a grin.

And the next thing Michael knew, he was being surrounded by three children hugging him ( oh, and a Minireena ), he sighed, patting the twins’ heads and giving Norah a little smile.

“Right, right… let’s get out of here, shall we?” He asked, “Henry’s probably worried about you guys.”

“Oh, de-- definitely.” Sammy replied, looking at him, “W-- we snuck out at eleven-thirty in the night. He probably k-- knows that we’re out.”

Michael could only sigh as he began to guide the trio out, if that suit didn’t kill him, Henry sure as hell will now.

Elizabeth watches him go with a little grin on her face-- thankful that she could at least help in some way shape or form.

Though, she couldn’t help but feel like something bad is going to happen soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we got gremlins, folks, michael gets saved by children; the saga //whacked
> 
> also norah forcibly adopts a minireena
> 
> anyways!! a tumblr is in the works for yall to ask questions abt my thought process behind this series as well as maybe early revelations of the timeline's characters!! hope you enjoyed this chapter, though!


	19. Scooper Trooper.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pain is only skin-deep.

He truly had no idea why he came back after last night. Henry had grilled him and the kids, sure; but he believed he might truly be crazy for returning, Then again… this was his job, who else would do it for him?

“Welcome back to your last day on the job. That is, the last day of your first week! some of the most valued qualities that we like to see in new employees are determination, fearlessness and a genuine disregard for instinctive self-preservation.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples when the damn HandUnit spoke, “You’ve earned your one-week bonus which will be given to you in the form of a delightful gift basket, the cost of which will be taken out of your next paycheck.”

Out of his paycheck? **Criminal** , how dare they. He just shakes his head as the blasted thing continues, “We’ve gift-baskets containing fruit, nuts, flowers and of course the ever-popular cash-basket. Using the keypad below, please enter the first few letters of the gift basket you would like to receive.”

He reaches forward, pressing keys randomly-- he was used to this now, he supposed-- his expression almost bored as the mess of letters gets censored on the device.

“It seems you had some trouble with the keypad. I see what you were trying to type, and I will auto-correct it for you. Thank you for selecting; Exotic Butters.” He has to do a double-take once more. That was a thing? What in the hell, “Please be aware that there are still two technicians on-site today. Try to avoid interfering with their work if possible. Also, feel free to ask them why they are still there, and encourage them to go home.”

“Technicians?” He murmured, expression turning to one of concern, “That… is _not_ good.” A hand goes to his face before he shakes his head and enters the vent, making quick work to get through to the Control Module, a hand reaches up to rub his arm as he stands.

“Let’s check on Ballora, and make sure she’s on her stage.” The Unit orders, and Michael presses the button-- seeing the tragedy on the stage and backing up-- he looked visibly sick, a hand covering his mouth as he did.

Well, he thinks, there’s one technician.

“Great. Now let’s check on Funtime Foxy.” He already has an idea on what’s gonna be on that stage, so the man closes his eyes and presses the button, he dares not look-- he doesn’t want to see what became of the other technician.

“Great! It looks like everything is as it should be in Funtime Auditorium. Your task today will involve more maintenance work. Circus Baby had a rough day and is in need of repair.” Of course she does, Michael frowned as he neared the Auditorium vent quietly, waiting for the device to finish, “You will be required to reach the parts and service room by once again sneaking through Funtime Auditorium. As always, please proceed with caution.”

God, he hates that, he slips through the vent, beginning to walk through the Auditorium, he paused at one point, looking around with a frown on his face; Foxy wasn’t here, were they? He tests that gut feeling by proceeding to bolt down to the door, stopping and looking back into the abyss-- that… that’s weird-- where _WAS_ Foxy?

He shakes his head, and enters the room, swallowing as he looks at the behemoth of a clown on the conveyor ( he wouldn’t be surprised if there was an actual body inside the thing ), and perked up when the HandUnit spoke once more.

“Great job reaching parts and service! Circus baby has been deactivated for an unknown reason. It is your job to ensure she is structurally stable and secured to the conveyor. Our technicians will take it from the-” It cuts off into static, and the poor man tenses-- what the fuck?

He pales when he hears the next voice to speak, “Can you hear me? I’m pretending. Remember how I said that I could pretend?” He flinches harshly, hands covering his mouth as he listens, almost begrudgingly, “The cameras are watching, I must be careful not to move. Something bad happened yesterday. Something bad always happens. I don’t want it to happen again.”

God, this was fucked up, the man keeps a hand over his mouth, but one of his hands move to hang loose at his side as she continues to speak, “There is something bad inside of me. I’m broken. I can’t be fixed. I’m going to be taken to the Scooping Room soon, but it’s not going to fix what’s wrong with me. What is bad is always left behind. Will you help me?”

Does he have a choice? Most likely not, he just nodded, sighing as he steeled himself.

“I want you to save what is good so the rest can be destroyed and never recovered, but you must be careful. Ballora is here, in the room with us.” She warned, and Michael frowned, “Ballora will not return to her stage, Ballora will not return to her body. You must be careful, you must remain calm and listen to my voice.”

_Right, okay,_ the man thought, _I can do that._

“There is a button on my cheek. You must find it and press it. There is a passcode that you must enter before you can retrieve me. Enter the code carefully.” He took a breath, hand raising to enter the code, he listened to her, inputting the randomised numbers slowly and methodically ( his hand trembled a little for once ).

“Good, a hatch should have opened. Take the card that you find inside.” She informed him, and he does so, listening as she continues, “Now, you must turn back. I will guide you through Funtime Auditorium, so you can reach the Scooping Room. When you are there, I want you to destroy this body. Put the card into your handheld device and I can continue to speak to you. Now, press the green button to your left, this will send me to the Scooping Room.”

He pressed the button, watching her go as he slipped the card into the device, “You must follow my instructions in Funtime Auditorium. Ballora is going to follow you. She will try to catch you. I will help you avoid her. She will not follow you inside the Scooping Room, she is afraid. Go back now.” It spoke, and Michael readied himself, walking out.

“Go forward. Stop. Go forward and left. Keep going. Stop. Be Silent. Go forward and left. Stop. Go forward. You are almost there.” How encouraging, he does his best to follow-- but it’s quite difficult-- considering how fast she says them, it’s like she wants him dead ( honestly, he’s surprised she didn’t kill him yesterday ).

“Stop.” She demanded, and he freezes, silently standing with opened eyes, “She is right in front of you. Don’t move.” A pause, as though Baby was trying to think of what to say, “He is here to help, Ballora. He is not here to hurt us. Ballora, he is here to help us.” He remains there in the quiet for a moment or so before she speaks up once more, “Go forward again, Ballora is behind you. She is afraid of the Scooping Room, she will not follow you.”

He steels himself and walks into the room.

It was dark, but between the occasional light coming in from the fan and his eyes adjusting to the darkness, he can make out the very thing he saw yesterday, his head looks up when he hears the HandUnit talk; “Warning! You’ve entered a highly dangerous area. You’ve entered from maintenance hatch 1B, reserved for cleaning and repair of The Scooper! Entering this side of the room is strictly prohibited by unauthorized persone-”

It gets cut off once more, as the voice he picked up began to speak.

“You are in the Scooping Room now. Funtime Foxy has already been here today. Funtime Freddy has already been here today. Ballora has already been here today. Circus Baby has already been here today.” Michael’s eyes seem to widen, and then squint as he catches sight of something behind the window; something… tall, wire-y and staring into his soul, “I’ve been out before, but they always put me back. They always put us back inside. There is nowhere for us to hide here.”

“...There is nowhere to go, when we look like this.” It continued, “But if we looked like you, then we could hide. If we looked like you, then we would have somewhere to go.”

Michael’s eyes widened.

“The Scooper only hurts for a moment.”

One. Two. Three.

Michael feels a sharp pain hit his stomach-- and for him-- it all goes black.

The last thing he heard… and he was _sure_ he heard it, was Elizabeth sobbing and screaming for him to get up.

\---

It’s been… two weeks, since that incident-- the fact that he was aware of the robotic parasite in his body was terrifying. The moment he got back home-- everyone could tell something was wrong. The gaping hole in his stomach and the way the wires that replaced his organs was evidence of that… What he wondered, was how he was still alive.

Unless he wasn’t, but it was too confusing for him to think about, really. His body deteriorated-- he went from pale, to green, to purple-- he was a mess ( and not to mention that Charlie had begun to call him a raisin ). It wasn’t good, things really weren’t looking good.

The man shambles his way down the street, he had been walking back to Henry’s-- the man said he had something that could help him-- so it was best for him to get there as quickly as possible ( at least he was alone, he guessed ). His only eye finding the way forward, as he had lost the other in the process of decaying.

He kept walking, limping as he heaved-- the mangled mess of wires on his insides were… quite frankly really heavy.

And for some reason that weight seems to be going up.

...Wait. He stops, standing in place as he feels pieces and parts make their way up his internal system ( or lack thereof ), it was gross, disgusting, like throwing up-- which he did, he keeled over a little and vomited out the goddamn robot-- to which he collapsed and it slithered off into the sewer drain right near him, leaving blood in its wake.

He remained floored, unmoving, not even breathing-- he was… dead. Well and truly-- but he didn’t want to die yet.

_Get up!_ He hears, pleading tearfully, demanding him to stand, _you won’t die, Mikey! I won’t let you die!_

_ I want you to LIVE! _

Live… to **live**.

He finds it in himself to stand and keep walking, as the ghost sits and watches him with a smile.

_“...Keep your head up, Mikey.”_ Elizabeth whispered, _“I promise that I’ll see you again soon-- and when I do…”_

_ “..When I do, I’mma hug you. I’mma hug you really tight and tell you that I love you.” _

She promises.

\---

“YOU JERK!” The eight year old yelled, socking him straight in the stomach the minute he entered the house, “Finally! I can punch you like I said I would--” She huffed, and Michael gives a weak laugh, giving her a smile.

“Sure, sure…” He responded, as Henry walked into the corridor, holding something in his hands-- a necklace, of some form, oval in shape-- he simply gave a nod in greeting to the older man.

“I’m guessing you had a spot of trouble on the way here.” The father replied, “Thank goodness I finished this-- let’s get it on you.” With that, he pulls the necklace around the corpse’s neck, clasping it in place before sticking his fingernail into the side of the necklace’s charm, seeming to press something.

There was a sharp buzzing for a brief moment, but when Michael next looked at his hands, he saw revitalised flesh, and Norah let out a loud gasp from where she stood.

“Mikey,” she whispered, “you’re human again!” The man was baffled, looking at his hands, then his arms-- then feeling his hair.

“I thought you’d appreciate the illusion disc, it makes you look human-- I took a few creative liberties, like giving you a blind eye.” Henry commented, “It doesn’t need charging, so it can last a pretty long time.”

“T.. thank you, Henry.” Michael seemed to whisper, eyes widening at the other, the man could only give him a nod and a wink.

“Well, since I assume you’d have some form of stomach in there… I’ve just finished making dinner, care to join?” He asked, and Michael looked to Norah, who beamed.

He looked back to Henry, and nodded, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

And so he followed the man into the house, Norah yelling and following after him.

Besides… they’ve earned a break for now, the twins were in their bedroom, Charlie fiddling with a baby head as she sat on the bed.

“H.. hey,” Sammy piped up, holding up the newspaper for her to see.

“D-- did you know Freddy’s is being re-opened soon?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO we did it gamers... we've finished the sl arc!! soon enough the next arc will be hitting and then,,, after that, my all-time favourite arc comes into play!
> 
> regardless, i hope you've enjoyed so far, i'm having a whole lotta fun with this!


	20. June 8th, 1993.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where fantasy and fun come to life.

“So you’re sure you want to take this job?” The oldest man asked, resting his chin on his organic hand-- his metallic one tapping the cafe table idly. The youngest of the three nodded, hands folded his lap as he quietly looked at the table surface-- his can of soda opened and fizzy near where his gaze was fixated; he always was a shy individual.

The elder man just gave a soft sigh, shaking his head with a smile, he looks to his co-worker, who was distracted with twirling a lock of hair before he nudged him, the youngest looks up between them, mismatched eyes ( one green, one brown ) flicking from one to the other as he sits.

“Oh-- right, uh! If you’re sure you wanna take this job,” the middle man begins, “then we need to tell you about what might happen at night… this is regarding the robots, and the spirits inhabiting it.” He states, “Are you up for it?”

He steeled himself, and nodded.

“I’m ready.”

The blonde gave a little grin, whilst the raven-haired man laughed a bit, a hand reaching out to shake the teenager’s.

“Welcome to Freddy’s then, Mike Schmidt. My name is Fritz Smith; and I’m sure you already know Mr. Fitzgerald.”

\---

He takes a deep breath, twirling in the office chair with the tablet in hand; it was… quite strange after-hours, Mike was used to it being more lively; kids running around and yelling, playing games; he liked it when it was louder ( and it meant that he wasn’t alone with his thoughts ).

He missed when there wasn’t such tension in the air; or when there weren’t any dead kids-- like… Elijah. He missed his little brother-- the teenager could only take a moment to settle into the quiet and the dark of the pizzeria. It wasn’t something he would be used to immediately.

Mike always struggled with change, he guessed.

The teen pulled his knees up to his chest as the phone began to ring, his eyebrow raising as it began to relay an automated recording.

“Hello, hello? Uh, I wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night. Um, I actually worked in that office before you. I'm finishing up my last week now, as a matter of fact.” Mike blinked, wasn’t that ol’ man Arthur? He didn’t know that he worked the night shift, of all things, “So, I know it can be a bit overwhelming, but I'm here to tell you there's nothing to worry about. Uh, you'll do fine. So, let's just focus on getting you through your first week. Okay?”

The man nodded, despite knowing that the man on the other end couldn’t see, “Uh, let's see, first there's an introductory greeting from the company that I'm supposed to read. Uh, it's kind of a legal thing, you know.” He continues, “Um, welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. A magical place for kids and grown-ups alike, where fantasy and fun come to life. Fazbear Entertainment is not responsible for damage to property or person. Upon discovering that damage or death has occurred, a missing person report will be filed within 90 days, or as soon property and premises have been thoroughly cleaned and bleached, and the carpets have been replaced.”

He seemed to start cringing halfway through that part, not responsible… a report? Premises cleaned and bleached-- and replaced carpets? Mike pressed his mouth into a thin line, was he… going to die here?

In the back of his mind does he remember Fritz mentioning the robots, and he shakes his head, guess he wasn’t wrong, then.

“Blah blah blah, now that might sound bad, I know, but there's really nothing to worry about. Uh, the animatronic characters here do get a bit quirky at night, but do I blame them? No. If I were forced to sing those same stupid songs for twenty years and I never got a bath? I'd probably be a bit irritable at night too.” The seventeen year old gives a weak little laugh at that-- he could concur-- having to go through all that would leave him quite annoyed, “So, remember, these characters hold a special place in the hearts of children and we need to show them a little respect, right? Okay.”

Mike checks the camera tablet whilst he listens to the voice prattle on-- and a part of him grimly notices the robots on stage staring at the camera-- he sighed, frowning, “Uh, they used to be allowed to walk around during the day too. But then there was The Bite of '87. Yeah. I-It's amazing that the human body can live without the frontal lobe, you know?”

“...He got the two bites mixed up.” Mike observed, he couldn’t blame him, he supposed-- Arthur was always quite scattered-brained-- he looks up from the tablet, looking between the doors on his left and right.

“Uh, now concerning your safety, the only real risk to you as a night watchman here, if any, is the fact that these characters, uh, if they happen to see you after hours probably won't recognize you as a person.” He raises an eyebrow at that, staring right at the phone, “They'll p-most likely see you as a metal endoskeleton without its costume on. Now since that's against the rules here at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, they'll probably try to... forcefully stuff you inside a Freddy Fazbear suit.”

“That… is absolutely gross.” He stated softly, a worried expression on his face as he sits in the chair, he didn’t want to imagine the possibility; but he has faith that he won’t end up like that.

“Um, now, that wouldn't be so bad if the suits themselves weren't filled with crossbeams, wires, and animatronic devices, especially around the facial area. So, you could imagine how having your head forcefully pressed inside one of those could cause a bit of discomfort...and death. Uh, the only parts of you that would likely see the light of day again would be your eyeballs and teeth when they pop out the front of the mask, heh.” Ah, gross! Mike did not need to hear that in the slightest! He shriveled up a little bit in the seat, sticking his tongue out.

Ew, he thought.

“Y-Yeah, they don't tell you these things when you sign up. But hey, first day should be a breeze. I'll chat with you tomorrow.” The teen frowned, tilting his head, “Uh, check those cameras, and remember to close the doors only if absolutely necessary. Gotta conserve power. Alright, good night.”

Gotta conserve power. He looked to the battery on the tablet, eyes going half-lidded as he read the power percentage; 92%.

He checked the stage once more-- noticing the rabbit animatronic having wandered off-- he flips through the system, finding the blueish-purple bunny in the back room, a part of him wondered if he was messing around with the systems there, or the heads; he knows that there was a weird endoskeleton on the table, too…

The boy checked the stage once more, seeing no signs of movements, before switching back to where Bonnie was; to monitor the rabbit. It was the least he could do; after all, it was only his first night ( they would go easy on him, right? ). It wasn’t every day you had to deal with moving robots.

The boy could only muster a little worried grin as he sat there, welp. This won’t end well for him in the long run.

Slowly over the night does he see Bonnie move, from the back, to the dining hall, to the left hallway-- and inside the cupboard, weirdly enough-- before popping by his door ( to which he promptly shut off access to ), Mike could only sigh as the rabbit stayed by the entrance.

He checks his power and time, 62% at 4 AM. Not too bad for his first night. He checks up on Chica, who had started to move around as well; he’s vaguely aware of the banging pots and pans from the kitchen, assuming she’s there; he does also notice Foxy peeking out of his curtain a little; he wondered why the fox was out of order ( he vaguely remembers a teen in the school year below him rambling madly about the captain and a curse ), he could only brush it off; it was something he should probably ignore.

Mismatched eyes focus on the door to his left; a hand pressing the lightswitch to check for a silhouette-- to which he sees none-- and opens the door, simply letting out a soft sigh as he bites the inside of his cheek, there was a presences in the room; one that he couldn’t put his finger on, and that scared him a little.

Even so, he needed to make sure that things would be okay; he looked around not noticing anything out of the ordinary ( a part of him shivers at that, he wondered if the other guys were right ), he places the tablet down before he leaned back, watching the clock turn for a moment-- 5:45 AM.

In the corner of his eye does he notice Chica peering through the window, and he swivels on his seat-- speeding towards the door to his right and shutting it-- the chicken seem to peer at him, eyelids lowering to a squint, and then snapping wide, she seems to straighten, before trotting off.

She left quicker than Bonnie, Mike noted to himself as he opened the door.

All he could do for the moment was check the cameras and bask in the solitude of the office, a frown on his face as he seemed to focus on the time, ticking closer and closer until…

He hears the chime of daylight, shoulders relaxing in his seat, he stands, placing the tablet on the tablet ( he sneaks a glance at the leftover power-- 51% ), and adjusts his cap, heading out.

Before he did, however… he stops in front of the stage, staring up at the robots quizzically, he tilted his head, a lopsided smile coming to his face.

“I wonder,” he started, “maybe Fritz and Mr. Fitzgerald were right about you.”

He heads out, feeling four pairs of eyes following him as he did.

\---

Her eyes read the newspaper as she leaned against the wall of the shop, an irritated expression on her face as she thumbed over the heading of the newest scoop today; Teenage Boy Found Severely Injured In Fazbear’s Backroom.

The tall man seemed to be reading over her shoulder quietly, and the girl’s shoulders slowly tensed; he made her feel uncomfortable, really, she sneaks a glance at him, noticing his purple eyes on the header and the picture of the victim.

“Mr. Afton,” she started, drawing his attention, “Why… why is the person targeting my family? First Del, then Greg, and uncle Arthur, and now Sammy… the doctors say that he won’t be able to talk.” She whispered, William placed a hand on her head, expression softening to a smile ( he knew her, he knew her better than she knew herself; the apple never fell far, so they say ), “It’s-- it’s not fair, what if Charlie’s next?”

William gives a little hum, “Oh, Norah..” He assured, head raising to watch the rest of the police leave the scene of the restaurant, “I’m not sure, but I know things are gonna be better-- I’ll keep a better eye out for any accidents or-- or attempted murders, okay?”

Norah’s hands mildly tightened around the paper as she grit her teeth; jackass, she thought, he saw something, you had to silence him for good.

She was not a stupid kid; she was more than she let on-- _the apple never fell far_.

_Soon we’ll have you right where we want you. And once we do... we will **never** let you leave._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took a bit!! college has started back up again so activity will be a bit spotty; however, i'm excited to finally start the fantasy & fun arc! i'm also excited for what i have planned since there's a bit of canon divergence here too!!
> 
> in the meantime, i've gotten a url for the tumblr since some of you wanted a way to ask abt this timeline, and i've also got another question; would you guys like me to make fazfright fanstories? i think it'd be neat!
> 
> anyways, thanks for reading!!


	21. Stay Calm.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She does it again.

“I’d ask you why you’re here, but I have a feeling I already know.” He spoke to the girl almost gently as they sat in the office.

He wasn’t mad at her, no; he couldn’t be, she almost lost her beloved cousin, and the red puffy eyes that stared back at him put him in a place where he dare not scold or yell at the poor eleven year old.

Despite the girl’s hard demeanour earlier in the day, Norah seemed quite tearful now, in private and away from prying eyes ( it was for the best in his opinion, the media eats up anything they can get nowadays ).

Mike could only pat her head with an understanding smile, “I’m sure you needed the space, huh?” He spoke, “I noticed you with Mr. Afton earlier, you seemed… tense, stone-cold, I guess; I’ll let you stay after hours, okay? Just for tonight.”

The pout that came from her could only make the man sigh, “...And I’ll think about maybe letting you stay the other nights.” He caved, giving a smile when she does; it was something she needed, considering the day was more exhausting right now.

He looks to the clock as it hits twelve, and he gave Norah a nod-- seeing her nod back ( she’s told him that she’s done this before, he knew that she was smaller back then, but she was more capable now ).

“Uhh, Hello? Hello? Uh, well, if you're hearing this and you made it to day two, uh, congrats! I-I won't talk quite as long this time since Freddy and his friends tend to become more active as the week progresses.” The two looked at the phone as Norah seemed to tense for a moment, before she looked back to Mike.

“That’s m’uncle.” She replied a little cheerfully, “He’s mom’s little brother, he jus’ had a baby with his wife last month.” She then added, Mike blinked, looking quite intrigued-- it was strange to hear so much of the man behind the phone, he supposed.

“Uhh, it might be a good idea to peek at those cameras while I talk just to make sure everyone's in their proper place. You know…” He continued, prompting the teenager to flip the camera up; he noticed the power begin to fall a little, “Uh... Interestingly enough, Freddy himself doesn't come off stage very often. I heard he becomes a lot more active in the dark though, so, hey, I guess that's one more reason not to run out of power, right? I-I also want to emphasize the importance of using your door lights.”

“More active in the dark?” Norah echoed, leaning against the table, “Sounds like that fox from the shut-down Funtime Line.” She replied then, “I got a peek at the blueprints when I was over Mr. Afton’s house.” Mike looked to her, surprised, and she chuckled, “They were, uh… not good, Mike.”

He doesn’t press her for anything else, simply giving a small smile and a nod.

“There are blind spots in your camera views, and those blind spots happen to be right outside of your doors. So if-if you can’t find something, or someone, on your cameras, be sure to check the door lights. Uh, you might only have a few seconds to react... Uh, not that you would be in any danger, of course. I'm not implying that.” He hears Arthur continue, and the look he gave in the direction of the phone causes Norah to cover her mouth and laugh, as long as she cheers up, he thinks.

“Also, check on the curtain in Pirate Cove from time to time. The character in there seems unique in that he becomes more active if the cameras remain off for long periods of time. I guess he doesn't like being watched. I don't know. Anyway, I'm sure you have everything under control! Uh, talk to you soon.” Mike just groans a little, face-planting into the tablet’s surface.

“There’s always one.” He spoke, Norah giggled, pushing herself off of the table, she walks over, peering at the tablet from over his shoulder with a little smile, though her eyes seem to widen curiously as she notices the animatronics seem to be wandering around.

“Mike,” she started, touching his shoulder, “back in ‘87, Mr. Fitzgerald and Fritz dealt with the robots, right? They won’t think of you as an endoskeleton.” She informed, “It’s what the company tells nightguards in general-- these robots specifically don’t do that. They usually play this kinda game… they’re a bit scared of nightguards, considering that, at the time, the man who killed them was one.” She added then.

The man glanced to her, seeming to take in the information for a moment before nodding at her to continue.

“So, basically… those robots will warm up to you once they find out you’re not the one at fault.” She added then, “And-- and maybe you could help out too…” She chirped, “Mr. Jere an’ Fritz did what they could back then, like-- like finding their bodies.”

“But I’m guessing the spirits didn’t leave the suits?” Mike asked, “Is… is Elijah here, too? Is he safe?”

Norah nodded, “As safe as can be with Freddy himself.” She replied, “Um, I can list off who’s in which robot, if you want; Oscar’s in Bonnie, whilst Penelope has control over Chica.” Ah, maybe that was why she reacted so strangely last night, “Cathy is with Foxy, she doesn’t really tend to come out all that much, but I’m sure she sometimes gets a bit too curious.” Norah then finished.

She balked then, before giving him a smile, “There… are two more, do you-- want to see them?” She asked, the teen checked the time, noticing the clock tick by fast; it was 2:48 AM, he was at 80% power.

He gave her a nod, and Norah had the gall to drag him out of the office and down the hall, his anxiety spikes-- out here, in potentially dangerous territory, it wasn’t good for him-- and he has to quell his worry for a moment.

Norah slows to a stop, just outside of the backroom; she looked around for a moment before opening it up and heading inside; Mike doesn’t see Bonnie in the room-- he assumes that he had moved down to somewhere else.

Now that he looked at it, though, the backroom was strange to be in; it had everything he saw on the cameras, yes, but the camera’s blind spot had things he was surprised to see there; a massive prize box, something that could very well hold something within, and an old springlock suit-- a bear, he thinks-- slumped against the corner of the room unceremoniously, in between the two was a locked door.

Norah pulled him closer, and knocked on the box, “Del, Del--!” She called, “Wake up!” She asked, and the box rustles, the flaps on the top of box opens, and out comes a familiar robot; the Marionette, it shifted, leaning against the side of the box as it watched them; blue eyes staring into the very core of Mike’s being.

“Norah.. I thought we said no more after-hour sneak-ins.” She chided, to which the girl simply gives a little smile, sheepish, the puppet could only sigh deeply as it raised a hand over to the suit, proceeding to slap it a little, “Wake up, Gregory.”

_“You didn’t have to slap me.”_ The teen responded, but Mike sees him, getting out of the suit and dusting his bloodied hoodie off, _“Ah, Norah…”_ He noticed her then, and looked to Mike, _“Mike, too?”_

The brunette nodded, grinning ear-to-ear, “I wanted to bring him over, I was thinkin’-- maybe tomorrow we can reunite him with Elijah?” She suggested, “It’s only fair, he’s on night shift, after all, those two are practically a reunion waiting to happen!”

The blonde looked between her and Mike, before his expression softened, _“Delancy?”_ He asked, causing the Marionette to place a spindly finger near its permanently-opened mouth.

“I don’t see why not,” she responded, causing the girl to brighten as she nudged Mike, “tomorrow night, at three; that should be when Elijah starts moving.” She then informed, “Whilst you’re here, though, there’s something I’d like to ask of you both.”

“And that is?” Mike found it in himself to speak, Delancy seemed to muse, before handing him something-- which he had taken.

“I want you, in your free time, to research the accident that happened just yesterday.” She tells him, “Norah has a task of her own based on a hypothesis that Gregory came up with when checking his suit.”

Norah simply snickered then, “I think I’ll be able to compile everything to show you in about two days or so, give or take.” She replied, “You’d be… quite surprised at what I’ve noticed, anyways.”

Delancy nodded, and Mike consciously checked the time; it was soon rolling over to six, he’d be done soon enough-- and tomorrow, he can see Elijah.

He looked to the two robots, and gave a small smile, “Um, thank you.” He spoke, “For giving me the opportunity to see my little brother again, I… I missed him.”

_“It’s no problem, Mike.”_ Gregory seemed to speak warmly, _“We’re not monsters, we’re… just children.”_ He trailed off, looking to the side, _“We just want to be free, and be at peace.”_ He then stated simply.

Mike blinked, and nodded, “I promise that I’ll help in any way I can.” He assured, which caused the teen to give a smile, before looking up when the sound of the bell chimes.

_“Well,”_ he starts, _“I suppose it’s time you both get going, we have a lot of work to do.”_ He chimed, _“Time draws closer and we all know that at any moment, something bad can happen.”_

_Freddy’s is a cesspool of misdeeds_ , Mike recalls Jeremy saying at some point, it was a joke of his-- but Mike couldn’t help but believe him.

Norah grabbed his arm, nodding, “Let’s go, Mike, ‘kay? I can drop you off at your mom’s.” It was funny for her to say that, with her being the younger one.

Mike could only sigh as he’s dragged out of the building by a hyperactive child.

\---

“Found anything whilst I was gone?” Norah asked as she walked through the door, closing it behind her, the blonde at her bedroom desk looked up, clearly, she hadn’t gotten sleep, and Norah could only give a concerned look, walking over, “Charl,” she started, “you should go rest.”

“Yeah, you’re right-- sorry.” Charlie seemed to reply weakly, “I’ve been writing the overall notes of what we found whilst you were over there; there’s a code in here somewhere, Nore, I’m sure of it; Mr. Afton’s too smart to not include it.” She explained.

Norah looked to what she was writing, and then to the notes clearly written by someone else, she picked it up, eyes narrowed at it; she read the notes ( it was like… a recipe ), before a finger points to a part of the sheet, “Here,” she stated, bringing it closer for Charlotte to see, “some of the letters shouldn’t be capitalised, right? Usually the ingredients wouldn’t be written as such.”

“Shit, you’re right.” She whispered, and pointed towards some instructions, “And here, too, the measurements and such shouldn’t be written that way, should they?” She asked, beginning to write down the odd letters out.

“Not to mention here.” Norah then added, gesturing to the ‘added notes’ section, “Some of the letters in general have been omitted. The old bastard used multiple ciphers and code to throw a person off.”

Charlie nodded, and kept writing as Norah points out anything else, before she suddenly stopped, her free hand laying flat on the paper as she stared at it, “What the fuck..?” She whispered, prompting the younger girl to look over her shoulder.

In block capitals she sees **‘TAGGART’,** ‘ **AGONY** ’, **‘METAL’,** **‘BLOOD’** and **‘REMNANT’.** She looked back at the sheet, and then to Charlie.

“I think, Charlie,” she started, “we might have stumbled onto something big here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe subtle fazfrights references,,,, i'll explain things properly once the arc end ( or if you have questions, ask me on prizecornerz on tumblr! ), for now, tho? secrets are gonna be kept, and we're gonna get a fluffy chapter next!!
> 
> as always, thank you for reading! hopefully the next one comes out soon <3


	22. Reunion and Plans.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brothers and cousins, am I right?

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been waiting. In the back of his mind does he hear the drone of the phone call go on and on; it was only 1 AM, but Mike was practically shaking with excitement; Norah could only give him a strangely concerned look from where she sat on the floor, a little grin on her face as she rested her chin on her hand.

“You alright there, dude?” She asked, chuckling when he looked to her-- she could see his leg bouncing almost erratically from where she sat-- “You’re clearly excited, Mike. Guess you’ve missed him, huh?”

“Oh, you have no clue.” He responded, smiling a little, “You might’ve met your cousins earlier, but I haven’t seen the kid in six years; I haven’t healed, but you know how it is, right?”

She simply nodded as Mike gave a snicker, tilting his head at her. Norah couldn’t blame him for the excitement, but she had also noticed his anxious nature seeming to kick in ( he did ask her if Elijah might hate him or something, poor dude ). She seemed to be looking in her little pocket notebook for a moment, rereading through the notes and ideas from earlier in the morning; she was still wondering what half of those words mean.

Blood, Metal and Agony, sure; she knew what those were to an extent, but Taggart and Remnant? How would all of those connect? She wasn’t sure, she raised the pen she had grabbed from the office desk, chewing the end of it quietly as she stared at the notes.

Blood, Metal and Agony. What did those three have in common at the current moment? She was wracking her head for clues or answers as she seemed to be eyeing every word and detail of the page, Mike seemed to watch her, a little clueless.

The clock strikes 3, and Mike gets up, looking to her, “S’three, shall we be on our way?” He asked then, causing a pair of purple eyes to raise and look at him, and the eleven year old stands, nodding.

With that in mind; the duo headed out to the dining hall, Norah’s attention was still on her notes, it was silent, eerie; something that Mike would usually be very, very afraid of. But for some reason, the energy in the building was actually quite calming-- it was something he preferred compared to any other place.

It was still so quiet even when the two go to the main stage; Norah looked up from her book to peer at the robots, Bonnie and Chica just seem to be idling around ( knowing Oscar and Penelope, they probably wanted to watch ), and in the corner of her eye does she notice a fox’s snout peek out of the Cove; Catherine was watching, too.

She hears the whirring gears of the bear robot begin as the light comes to his eyes, and the optics seem to focus on the two, Mike rubs the back of his neck almost sheepishly as he cranes his neck up at him, smiling.

“E… Elijah?” He piped up meekly, the bear squints, eyebrows seeming to raise before his eyes widened, Mike continued regardless, “I, um, I dunno if you’re there, but it’s me! It’s Mike! I’ve, um, I’ve missed you a whole lot, so..--”

Two big, brown fuzzy arms scoop the teen up into a hug, Norah could barely see how the eyebrows on the bear go downward-- one of teary joy, she thinks-- it was a heartwarming sight, she could guess; after all, who wouldn’t be when you haven’t seen your loved ones in years?

“I-- I’ve missed y-- you, Mikey.” Comes out of the bear, and the teen breaks; tears finally pouring, his hands reach up to cling to his brother’s vessel, and Mike can only cry, mumbling to the bear as he nodded.

Norah closed the book and looked to the backroom, before back to the scene with a relaxed grin on her face-- she’d best leave them be, after all; it was something that she shouldn’t intrude on-- so she backpedals, gently walking backwards to the employees only room, and sneaking in.

“Gregory,” she called, “Delancy-- Charlie and I did crack some of what we found.” She informed then, noticing how Gregory seemed to be observing something on the table, a schematic of sorts; maybe of the building? He had drawn a large, red circle on an area near the bathrooms; one Norah couldn’t make out.

The Marionette looked to her, almost curious as to what she had found out, the eleven year old walked closer, holding out the book for her to read, the mask never changing expression.

“Taggart?” Delancy pondered then, and Gregory glanced at them from where he stood; leaning over the schematic with half-lidded eyes, “Agony… Remnant?” She then read, “What… are those?”

_“..Might be what I thought, then.”_ He spoke, causing the two girls to look at him, _“Delancy, do you remember that old doctor who was Afton’s-- uh-- drinking buddy?”_ He inquired, and Del nodded, _“His full name was Dr. Phineas Taggart; he and Afton often exchanged ideas whilst dad was their damage control; pretty sure Taggart altered his genome to make him not lactose intolerant or something.”_ Greg shuddered, “ _But, yeah, Taggart found that it’s possible to make emotionally-charged objects, no one knows how, but it’s… it’s certainly groundbreaking, but it was kept under wraps.”_

“What are you suggesting, Gregory?” Del asked then, frowning.

_“What I’m suggesting is,”_ he starts, moving from the table to his suit, _“our connections to our suits are linked via our agony. Blood, metal and sorrow for lives ended too soon; which may be what made us bound to these vessels in the first place.”_

“Remnant,” Norah whispered, “that’s what it’s called.” She seemed to look back at her pocket book then, eyebrows furrowed, “But why would William have this information?”

_“Taggart was murdered in some sort of freak accident inside his own lab after he made the discovery; it was in his request that the information was transferred to Afton as he’d know what to do with it-- dad often mentioned that the old man would watch Taggart do his work.”_ Greg stated, “So he probably built on that.”

“Maybe..” Del hummed, “That’s why the Funtime Line was built to lure and kidnap; so that William would have access to live subjects.”

“Until they gained sentience and escaped.” Norah quipped, Gregory nodded, sighing as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “But that doesn’t explain Michael.. his current situation just doesn’t make sense.” She then added, frowning.

“Maybe because there’s still bits and pieces of metal in his body or something.” Delancy offered, tilting the puppet’s head, Gregory seemed to think, a thoughtful expression on his face as he did. Norah notices him run a finger around the suit’s bowtie, before he stands.

_“Might be,”_ he started, before turning to face them, _“but this information is what solidifies our plan; we’ll be able to bind him to a suit, make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone ever again.”_ He stated, giving a little smile, _“Maybe we could find some form of peace, and if we don’t… part two of the project might have to be accessed.”_

Norah sighed, closing her eyes before opening them, “Right.” She murmured, “Hopefully it doesn’t come to that, but if it does… how long do you think it’ll take?” She pondered, the siblings look between one another, and then back at her; and Gregory shrugs, a little nervous.

The child could only sigh as the clock struck six, before she looked up, “Well,” she begins, “that’s my cue to go.” She walks to the door, looking to the duo and smiling, “See ya tomorrow!” She chirped, and winked, leaving.

Delancy could only shake her head and laugh, “What a kid.” She gushed, “A shame she was born the year after I died.”

_“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet.”_ Gregory spoke, _“That girl… she’s hell on wheels.”_

\---

A hand raises for her to look at-- it was her hand, covered in multiple, colourful band-aids and bandages, she feels something crawl onto her stomach, and her eyes flicker down to see her Minireena sitting cross-legged, watching her almost curiously.

“Hi, Rini.” Norah whispered, a fond smile on her face, the little robot tilted her head at the girl, yellow eyes seeming to size her up a little bit, before she crawled closer, a little hand raising the bat at her cheek.

“You worried about me?” She asks, and the robot nods, Norah’s smile gets a little wider, she pats the Minireena on the head, before Rini points to the door, her eyes follow-- and she sees Michael leaning against the doorframe, arms folded as he gives her a little smile.

“Tired?” He inquired, eyebrow raising, she snickered, sticking her tongue out at him, “I don’t blame you for it, really.” He chuckles tilting his head a little, “Night shifts SUCK. Are you going each night because the plan’s gonna happen soon?”

Norah could only smile and give a little wink.

_Oh, it’ll be happening sooner than people think._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long!! things have been hectic and my motivation has been waning a little, it was a struggle to complete this chapter! but don't worry, we got somethin' good on the next chapter, as always, thanks for reading!!


	23. Flipsided.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Always wondered what was in all those empty heads...

It was a little tense in the office, and Mike wondered why; Norah had been mulling over her notes once more with new added info from Greg and Del; it was an awkward-ish silence, something that whilst he wasn’t used to it, he welcomed… it was the least he could do.

“Hello, hello? Hey! Hey, wow, day four. I knew you could do it.” He hears the voice on the phone begin to speak, and he sits up, adjusting the tablet in his hands, “Uh, hey, listen, I may not be around to send you a message tomorrow.” No message tomorrow? His eyebrows seem to furrow, before his eyes widened when he hears banging; Norah looks up, too.

“It's-- It's been a bad night here for me. Um, I-I'm kinda glad that I recorded my messages for you, uh--” The man behind the phone clears his throat, “--when I did.” A beat, “Uh, hey, do me a favor. Maybe sometime, uh, you could check inside those suits in the back room?” As he continues, the banging seems to grow, “I'm gonna to try to hold out until someone checks. Maybe it won’t be so bad.” There was banging, “Uh, I-I-I always _wondered_ what was in all those empty heads back there.” An all-too familiar tune began to play, and Mike frowned.

“You know…” There was a groan, and Mike shuddered, “Oh no--” The line seems to cut off, and the two in the office could only stare at the phone, shakily. Norah swallowed, eyes wide as her grip on the book tightened.

“Uncle..” She murmured, “They-- they probably didn’t kill him, right? Right?!” Mike placed a hand on her shoulder, frowning as she took a deep breath, it wasn’t likely that Arthur had died; the kids would not have killed him, he knows that much! It wouldn’t be in their nature to senselessly kill others; the AIs might, sure, but not the kids. He could only sigh as she calmed herself down.

“I’m sure he’s fine, wherever he is.” He responded sympathetically, “I know that it might seem bleak, but I don’t think he’d get killed, you were in the backroom last night, right? So you would have known if he was.” He pointed out, and Norah took a moment to digest the information.

She nodded then, and sighed, “You’re right,” she spoke softly, “I would have noticed, so… where is he--?” She wondered then, before shaking her head, “I… guess I’ll never know. At least-- for now. There’s a lot of shit happening in Hurricane-- um! Don’t tell my mum I swore.” She covered her mouth and Mike could only give a small smile and a nod.

“What were you reading, anyways?” He asked, “They look like case notes from here.” He then added, Norah seemed to think, tapping the side of the book before giving Mike a smile.

“They’re actually case files I got from Mr. Burke!” She chirped, holding out the book for him to read; there were names and incidents all related via supernatural means ( he notices a few weird mentions of ‘Stitchwraith’, but overall they were odd cases to begin with ). He takes a moment to read through them, before his eyebrows furrowed.

“They’re cases related to Fazbear’s.” He observed, “One of those are the, uh-- the case with the bunch of screaming little Freddys found in a trash bin.” He points to the title, “And, and the one where that man had to be admitted into the hospital because there were a bunch of robots crawling inside him.”

Norah nodded, “It’s a whole lotta weird stuff, but Mr. Burke says that since I’m in on the whole mess, I do get to read about some of the weird stuff that happens.” It was her link of power in Hurricane; her father and Clay Burke were quite close ( and she loves playing pranks with Carlton; the girl absolutely sees him as another cousin ). Besides; she couldn’t help but be intrigued by the weird things happening that link back to Fazbear Ent.

“I, um. I guess this incident is gonna be brought up with Mr. Burke.” She spoke then, “Gonna need to hotwire the phone..” She murmured then, walking over to the device, Mike took this moment to wander out; it wasn’t like she’d worry about him, the robots are clearly not gonna hurt him.

He had a question he needed to ask Gregory, anyways. He wanders through the building, passing by Pirate’s Cove with a wave to Catherine as he did-- he felt a little bad for her, having to be confined to an out-of-order vessel-- and he walks all the way to the backroom, entering it with a little hum.

“G… Gregory?” He calls, gaining the attention of the blonde boy as he turns to look at him over his shoulder, Mike closes the door to the backroom, and places down his torch, rubbing his arm, “I’ve a question to ask, if you don’t mind.”

_“And that might be?”_ The dead teen inquired, placing down the stack of papers he had been messing with, Mike gave them a glance before focusing back on Gregory with a frown.

“I wanted to ask… what happened to Arthur? The, uh-- the guy on the phone?” He asked, tilting his head, he notices Greg’s shoulders tense slightly, but then they relax, and Greg turns to face him fully, placing his palms on the table as his expression shows some form of concern.

_“You deserve to know, so..”_ He took a breath, _“We didn’t kill him, not on that night-- but I had to remove him from the premises… after all, Afton was in the building at the time, and he was looking to kill him-- because he knew too much.”_ He started, watching Mike make a look of horror for a moment, _“I assume you heard the phone call, the banging was from the robots, they were, uh, the kids were trying to warn him; Elijah was using the Toreador March.”_ He then looked away, _“The groaning was me. I had to make an entrance to get him out before Afton cut the power, the thing is, Mike… I didn’t take him anywhere here.”_

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mike inquired then, frowning as his eyebrows furrowed, Gregory breathed out through his nose.

_“I took him to another plane of existence; I took him to the Flipside.”_ He explained, _“Now, I know it seems far fetched, I do not blame you for skepticism; but the Flipside is a plane of reality that specific people-- and most spirits-- can access.”_ He explained, _“For his safety, I took him down to the most secure level-- the Red Lake-- the only problem is that I cannot get him out, now, but he’s said it himself, Mike; it was better there than back where Afton could kill him… and he’s enjoying watching William practically tear at himself wondering where he is.”_

Gregory laughs then, and Mike nodded, **good** , so Arthur wasn’t dead; but that did make him wonder…

“Gregory,” Mike started then, “what does he do down there?” He wondered, “If he can’t leave, does he get the domain to himself?”

The teenager nodded, _“Yes.”_ He confirmed, _“He tends to fish in the lake, he’s the only one there, the past week, well-- the kids have started calling him Old Man Consequences.”_

“What a name, Arthur isn’t even in his thirties and he’s already being called old.” Mike chirped, causing Greg to laugh-- something light, unexpected from such a usually mature boy-- before they both turn to the door opening.

Norah peeked in at them both, holding up a little VHS, “Got the phone calls, Mikey! It’s about to chime six, so we’d better get going.” She chirped, “I might’ve overheard some of the conversation, so… maybe-- maybe Mr. Burke would at least like to know that Uncle’s okay.”

_“Indeed, Norah.”_ Gregory chimed, nodding, _“Oh, and-- by the way… Mike, don’t come in tomorrow, for your own sake-- he’ll be here, so.. I don’t want him to do the same to you as he might have done to Arthur.”_

Mike seemed to grow rigid, and he nodded then, “..Right.” He spoke, “I understand.” Norah, meanwhile, seemed to be looking to her cousin, concerned.

“You found it?” She asked, which made Gregory nod, “...Alright, we’ll be on our way!” She chirped, grabbing Mike by the hand and running out.

The teenager could only sigh as the clock turned to 6 AM.

Tomorrow night was the night to strike.

\---

Rini stood over the notebook that laid open on the desk-- it was late noon, and her owner was out with her cousins; so the Minireena had the room to herself, pale white pumps gently poke and prod at the page as beige hands seem to lay as flat as they could to her sides ( which was difficult, considering her tutu ), yellow eyes seem to read the words; she could barely make out a few of them, Norah had been teaching her how to read.

“S… spring-lock… hand-cr.. crank.” She sounded out, voice high pitched and gentle, “Spring-- B… Bon-nie… s.. soot? Suit.” She would frown, but Norah had yet to figure out a way to give her an emoting face, she simply tilted her head at the page, quiet.

“A… Afffton.” She murmured, “In… into-- the. Suit. Deaf? ...Death?” She reads, before standing, she’s heard things about her true creator; and she’s gathered enough information to decide that maybe the man had this coming.

She hops away from the desk, landing on the floor gracefully before walking out of the room, “Mr. Coriander! I got a question ‘bout my joints!”

Rini didn’t need to worry about it anyways.

The notebook remained open, scrawled shorthand words evident;

_Need Charlie’s springlock crank. Going to Pizzeria at 3 PM to sneak into the safe room and wind the Spring Bonnie suit. Afton’s death is due **tonight**._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOO OKAY WE'RE NEARING THE END OF THE FNAF 1 ARC WHO'S EXCITED TO SEE A MAN FRICKING KICK THE BUCKET (as he should)
> 
> also? that security breach trailer? considering we already have a gregory here, let's just say i have plans for him when we reach that time... regardless! that trailer has me super hyped for it now, and i hope you've enjoyed reading this! thanks for doing such <3


	24. Safe Room.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those locks were always rather loose...

Breathe in, breathe out; it’s what she kept telling herself as she huddled further under the desk, a hand covering her mouth as she listened out for anything that came close. Robots and men alike; it was something she needed to be wary of, her other free hand clutched her pocket book close to her chest as she stayed silent ( it was one of her good qualities ).

Just wait for the signal, just wait for the signal, just wait for th--

She almost hits her head on the desk when she hears the sound of something smashing. _God_ , okay, it’s starting, that… probably wasn’t good ( she has to force herself to sit still-- Greg said this needed to happen ), her eyes screw shut as her shoulders hunch together.

“Norah,” she hears Elijah pipe up, she peeks open one eye, seeing the ghostly boy sitting in front of the desk, legs crossed as he gives a little wave, “you okay? I get that this… isn’t really nice.”

“Your vessel just got destroyed, Elijah.” She replied quietly, “You essentially died a second time.” It might not have been as bad as the first, of course; the first time was always the worst ( it’s what everyone else says, and Norah can’t blame them at all ). Elijah could only give a comforting smile as they both flinch at the sound of metal breaking-- Bonnie, they could assume-- and Norah clicked her tongue.

“He’s destructive.” She commented quietly, as Oscar rounded the door into the room with a huff, she waved to him as he took a seat, and the raven-haired boy simply nodded back, quiet. “Hate the man, really. To think he’s my father, too..”

“Ew, gross, imagine having Afton as a dad.” Oscar muttered, and a small smile came to Norah’s face in amusement-- trust it to be him who lightens up a situation, if only a little bit-- the boy leaned his head on a hand as he tapped his knee, whilst Eliajh seemed to be alert and listening.

“Chica’s moving.” He hummed, and Norah could faintly hear the grinding of gears and footsteps; the chicken was indeed moving, and Oscar seemed to sigh, clearly irritated.

“I don’t understand why Greg needed the robots destroyed.” Oscar muttered, beginning to draw on the floor with his finger as they began to hear destruction once more, “Like-- it’s probably because we were tied to them and all, but hell, I at least liked moving around and communicating normally.”

“You _liked_ that?!” Comes an exasperated response as Penelope walked in, “Those things _**smelled**_ , Oscar! Not to mention that Chica liked to eat so much pizza. Tomato sauce and blood were _everywhere_.” She complained, taking a seat and giving Norah a little wave.

“You only complain because you have high standards, Nell.” Oscar responded, “You _were_ rich, after all, no wonder you’d start whining.” Norah could only sigh as the two began to bicker, facepalming as Elijah began to giggle at them.

The first spirit shook his head, smiling, “Now, now.” He piped up, looking to the two as they stopped their bickering momentarily, “Pay attention! We gotta wait for the signal.” He chirped, and Penelope sighed, breaking away from Oscar and making an ‘I’m watching you’ motion.

Once again, the sound of crushing metal and an axe hitting a body was heard, and Nell cringed, “Oogh.. poor Cathy.” She mumbled, Norah bit her lip, eyebrows furrowing as the youngest spirit ran into the room, a little out of breath, Catherine collapsed against the other three, before looking to the only living soul.

“Hiya,” she greeted breathlessly, “that was an awful experience, zero-outta-ten, never again.” Norah stifled a little chuckle at her, before they heard shuffling, Norah climbed out from under the desk, picking out a few pages from her notebook as Gregory idled into the room.

_“Ready?”_ He asked, the kids nod, and Norah pressed her lips into a thin line, Greg gave her a little nod, and then nodded to the left doorway, “Stick the papers alongside the drawings, they’ll come in handy, promise.” The eleven year old could only huff a little in understanding before leaving the room to the eastern hall; beginning to stick up pieces of paper as the five seemed to… do whatever they were doing.

She made her mark on the wall, beginning to pin the pages to it as she tried to tune out the scuffling and panic that soon grew as she hears the sound of flesh crunching and bones breaking, she shuddered, sticking the final page to the wall ( a bunny, black in colour with a cheshire smile ) and running for the bathroom hall, biting her lip as she went.

Norah slows to a stop at the entrance to a room she had never seen before; it was strange, sure, but it was something she brushed off for a moment as she looked the entrance up and down, she didn’t dare peer inside, not a for a moment; after all, she needed to prepare herself, for her own sake, of course.

She hears shuffling behind her, and she glances in that direction; seeing Delancy make her way over in the Marionette, the aura is sympathetic, and a spindly hand rests on her shoulder.

“It’s always hard to stand by and watch someone die, no matter who they are.” Delancy tells her, “But just know, Norah… this man may be your father, but to us, he is our murderer.” She sighed, looking at the room, “You hate him as much as we do; and we all understand that sometimes it’s not all that great to witness this.”

“I know.” She responded, “I hate that bastard, I really do; but as his only living daughter… I think I have the right to go in there and _spit_ on the fucker’s corpse.” She stated, Del gave her shoulder a squeeze.

“Get his ass.” She encouraged gently, “But don’t tell your mother you’ve been swearing, young lady.” She joked then, letting go of the girl’s shoulder as Norah headed in.

The smell of rusted copper, old fried wires and blood filled her nose, and Norah gagged a moment; needing to heave as she thumped her chest ( she really wasn’t all that good with crime scenes; she’d make a horrible police officer, she decided, how did Mr. Burke do it? ). She swallowed, turning her attention to the corpse in the room; dying slowly in a golden rabbit suit, now bloodied with the red remnants of the damned.

She steps closer, half-aware of the purple eyes peering from the suit at her, but shaking off the feeling to say what she needed to say.

“...Father.” She started simply, “You might not have known about me, or maybe you did-- I was your bastard child, after all. You never bothered with me, cast aside as soon as I was born.” She placed a hand to her chest, shoulders tensed, “Michael, too, was cast away after ‘83, and you never bothered to search for him, or any linked heir to your company, I wonder why.”

A pause.

“But I guess it doesn’t matter now, Michael suffered from your crimes, his own, too-- his accidental manslaughter weighed him down, but when he learned that you killed six innocent children, it crushed him-- he _**trusted** _you, father.” Her voice cracked in her bubbling anger, and Norah straightened up, “He trusted you and your work when he took a technician job at Circus Baby’s and he _died_ because of that trust-- but he came back, and I have a sinking feeling that you will too, you _bastard_.”

Her nose crinkled up a little in her disgust for the man, and her hands shook, one holding her book, and the other in a fist.

“A part of me hopes you **rot** here, you sad, miserable old man.” She seethed, “My cousins _suffered_ because of you, my _siblings_ suffered-- _my mother, too,_ and you got away with it every single time-- but _not anymore_ , you cannot run from your **death**.” Norah’s voice lowered as she stepped closer and closer; kneeling down to be eye-level with the man, “A part of me, however, hopes you’ll come back; much like the rest of them.” She stated.

She lets that sink in for a moment, before opening her mouth to continue.

“A part of me hopes so, because then I’ll be able to destroy you _myself_ , again, and again if I need to.” She stated, “This is my oath, **William**. As an Afton, I will _not_ die until you are dead for _**good**_. And I will make goddamn sure you suffer for all the shit you did.”

She stands, and spits at the tile in front of him, before turning her back to him.

“I hope you rot here, for as long as you can; because once you do get out of here… you will make the **_biggest_ **mistake of your now undead life.” She whispered, beginning to leave.

Once at the door, she seemed to pause, before looking over her shoulder to him.

“Good riddance, _father_.” She whispered, and finally left.

Norah left the building alone that night.

\---

“Honestly… I still think of it as goddamn _comical_ that you did that to him.” Michael stated, holding the old newspaper in his hand as a woman stood at the kitchen, “Like-- holy shit, that was… what do the kids say? **Savage**?”

“Never say that again, uncle.” Comes a young voice, Michael looked across the table at a young teen, blueish-purple eyes staring at him in shame, “Folks your age shouldn’t be usin’ 2010’s slang, I fear the day you start using 2020 terms.” She quipped then, causing the older man to stick his tongue out at her.

“It’s just a word, Nova.” The woman at the counter hummed, turning to look at the girl, “Your father has taught you worse, and we both know it. I’ve seen you both write in morse code at the dinner table.”

“Don’t call me out like this, mum!” Nova exclaimed, standing from her chair with a pout, “Grandpa Jere has also taught me worse, too!” She added, and the woman laughs, shaking her head.

“Next thing y’know, they’re gonna teach her how to shoot a gun--” Michael mumbled, narrowly missing a bop to the head from the sixteen year old, Nova sank back into her chair, pouting once more as she did.

“My whole _family_ bullies me.” She decided simply, “This is awful, I’m moving out and you will never see me again--” She joked, and Michael snorted, shaking his head.

“She’s got your humour, Nore.” He commented, his sister turned her head to him, eyebrow raising, before gently tapping the side of his head.

“Hush, you.” She chirped, shaking her head, they all pause at the sound of something shuffling at the front door, and Nova hopped out of her seat, “I’ll get the mail!” She called, running off as the two stood in the kitchen in silence.

“...Still can’t believe it’s been thirty years since Freddy’s closed.” Michael observed, “Thirty-six, since the murders.” He added, looking at the papers, “I hope he’s rotting in there, thinking about what he’s done.”

“He probably doesn’t regret it.” Norah shrugged then, “Gregory said that Project HD had one, maybe two phases left, so we’re not done yet… wonder why.”

“Oi!” The teen’s yell snapped them out of the conversation, Norah looks to her daughter, who runs into the kitchen and holds out a flyer, “The guys’re opening a horror attraction-- they want me t’be the nightguard.” She spoke breathlessly.

Norah takes the flyer as Michael stands to look over her shoulder, and the two could only give each other a concerned glance as they realised what it was.

_FAZBEAR’S FRIGHT: THE HORROR ATTRACTION._

**He always came back.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOO WE GOT THE FNAF 1 ARC DONE AND DUSTED WITH,,, and now we have my FAVOURITE arc of all time. the Springtrap Gets Bullied By A Teen arc //whacked
> 
> but seriously, for the whole thirty year timeskip, i plan to have another fic out that's separate to this detailing rewritten fazfright stories! if i added them here, then things would get a bit too complicated, y'know?
> 
> either way! thanks for reading, and the first part of the fright arc will be out soon...


	25. October 24th, 2023.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glad you're back.

"Okay, wow, guess this place isn't too bad." She mumbled, twirling in her chair as she sits there, frowning, 12 on the clock and nothing's in the building except for her, she thinks, which is fun, considering that she could do as she wanted to.

“Hey-hey! Glad you came back for another night.” She hears, Nova Trehann pulled her knees up to her chest in the chair as she looked around the office; she knew that voice on the phone, she knew him well-- well enough to know that the accent he had put on was a clear fake ( Allen Fisher-- dear Phone Dude-- was British, and she wasn’t some idiot; he’s using this as a gag ).

“I promise it'll be a lot more interesting this time. We found some-- some great new relics over the weekend. And we're out tracking down a new lead, right now. So-- uh, lemme just update real quick, then you can get to work.” Fun, she’d have to sit and do nothing for six hours straight ( she wonders if she could sleep through it-- but decides not too, Uncle would kill her himself if he heard she was really doing this ).

“Like, the attraction opens in like, a week, so we had to make sure everything works, and nothing catches on fire! Uh-when the place opens, people will come in at the opposite end of the building, and work their way towards you, then past you and out the exit. Uh, yeah. You've officially become a part of the attraction! Uh-- You'll be starring as... The security guard! So not only will you be monitoring the people on the cameras as they pass through, y'know, to make sure no one steals anything or... makes out in the corner, but you'll also be a part of the show.”

“Part of the show, huh?” She wondered, fingers tapping against an armrest of the chair-- the both of them knew. The both of them ( and her cousin, Selena ) were all here for different reasons. To Allen, a task to set; for Nova, a task to _complete_. Selena was support-- and she was damn good at it.

“It'll make it feel really authentic, I think. Uh... Now let me tell you about what's new. We found another set of drawings, always nice, and a Foxy head! Which we think to be authentic... then again it might just be another crappy cosplay, and we found a desk fan, very old school - metal, though, so watch the fingers.” Gee, thanks, she thinks, giving a small, fond smile as she leaned back against the chair, it was nice to know he was looking out for her still; they both knew from her mother and uncle that this might be dangerous-- but what threats could there even be?

“Uh-heh... Uh... Right now the place is basically just, you know, flashing lights, spooky props. Uh, I honestly thought we would have more by now, uh, we don't have something really cool by next week, we may have to suit you up in a furry suit, and make you walk around saying, "Boo"...” An almost childish giggle escaped him, and Nova huffed, she knew that they wouldn't make her do that; she wouldn’t do that if it was the end of the world.

“Uh... But, you know, like I said, we're trying to track down a good lead right now. Uh, some guy who helped design one of the buildings says there was, like, an extra room that got boarded up or- uh, something like that. So, we're gonna take a peek and see what we can find. Uh, for now just get comfortable with the new setup, um... You can check the security cameras over to your right with a click of that blue button.” Oh! She figured as much, she idly checked the cameras ( she takes note of the fact that there were vent cameras everywhere; didn’t grandpa Jere have vent cams back in the day? ). She clicked her tongue, eyes half-lidded.

“Uh, you can toggle between the hall cams and the vent cams... Uh, then over to your far left, uh, you can flip up your maintenance panel. Y'know, use this to reboot any systems that may go offline. Heh. So, in trying to make the place feel vintage we may have overdone it a bit, hehe... Some of this equipment is barely functional.” Now, she hated that; Nova simply squinted at the phone with a frown, barely functional; it was possible for her to destroy the systems, then… that’s concerning.

“Yeah, I wasn't joking about the fire. Tha-tha-that's a real risk. Uh, the most important thing you want to watch for is the ventilation. Look, this place will give you the spooks, man, and if you let that ventilation go offline, then you'll start seeing some crazy stuff, man. Keep that air flowin'. Okay, keep an eye on things, and we'll try to have something new for ya tomorrow night.” Nova just sighed deeply at that, frowning as swung in her seat; well, that was not good. Her mouth pressed into a thin line as she sat there, hands idly tapping on the buttons as she focused on the screen.

It wasn’t even 3 AM, she noticed; so she had roughly… 3 hours, maybe 30-40 minutes too. That’s plenty of time to explore and map out the building-- just in case she needed it-- and it meant that she could do as she pleased for the remainder of the night. So Nova moved; getting up from the chair and wandering out of the office.

It was much like Allen said; there were new things that were around the building, and the paths were winded around and cluttered… not like it was a bad thing for most, but it meant that Nova would most likely trip on something on the floor if she needed to run ( and not to toot her own horn, she is a damn fast runner ). She moved around the place, taking note of pathways and the fact that the vents seemed… way too big. She could practically fit inside; being 4’10” and all.

She wanders the corridors some more, placing a hand to the wall as she did, she lets out a little whistle as she went, before slowing to a stop near a wall full of pictures and drawings, and her fingers brush across a drawing of a happy little boy with balloons ( it made her feel nostalgic, strangely enough; as though she’s seen him before ).

Without much decision did she idly knock on the drawing, and things… shift-- they change.

It goes dark for her, then it goes… black and blue? And she sees platforms, balloons too-- what was this?-- she wasn’t sure what was going on, but she was a bit too surprised to ask, really… not like she had anyone to ask, of course.

She stumbles a tad, steadying her footing as she clicks her tongue, in the corner of her eye does she notice a counter-- eight balloons? Okay, alright… she looked around the room, counting the amount of balloons in the vicinity-- seven, alright, seven balloons, she should probably go collect those, actually. She scales the levels; parkour was one of the few things she was really, really good at.

With seven balloons in her grasp, she begins to look around for the final one ( it would infuriate her to no end if she didn’t get them all! ). Her hand places itself against the wall as she moved around the place once more, frowning--

\--And she proceeds to completely fall through the side of it. Noclipping, who would have thought? She’s falling, and she has to blink a few times to get the hair out of her face and register that she’s plummeting to the ground; and she hates that, her heart leaps to her throat and she closes her eyes but-- she hits the floor without any injury.

_What the fuck_ , she thinks, _did mum put something in the food before I left?_

She opens her eyes, squinting to focus on the large crying shadow towering over her; as well as smaller, rounder crying shadows ( they looked like kids ), she then gets up, rubbing her eyes before beginning to walk across the floor, past them-- a part of her could very faintly hear pleas for help, to be free; if this was just normal horror, Nova would be amused-- but this was different.

And Nova didn’t know if it was a _good_ difference. She keeps walking, and then she sees it; a wall, blue in colour-- much like where she woke up-- and she frowned, maybe she could noclip through there again?

She reaches out, watching her hands go through the blue barrier, and hoists herself into the box-like structure, Nova looks up, eyes widening as she sees that final balloon; switching colours rapidly.

Nova has never ran so fast to collect it-- and everything bugs out in her vision and goes black.

She shoots up when she next awakes; blinking hard as she seems to stare at the surroundings; she was back in the horror attraction-- sat against the wall. Had she fallen asleep? Was that all a dream?

The girl shifted to look at the time on her phone-- 5:55 AM, she’d been sleeping for quite some time, she thinks; but… she wasn’t exactly sure why. She stands, and that’s when she notices something that wasn’t there before.

She raises her wrist to the dimly-lit light, eyes widening a little at the charm bracelet around her wrist; a rainbow balloon shimmering a little in the small glow, she pressed her mouth together, eyebrows furrowing, “...Wasn’t a dream.” She murmured, beginning the trek back to the office.

Little did she know that a young boy was watching her; Elijah smiled, and clasped his hands together.

“Phase three, part one completed.” He spoke quietly, closing his eyes, “...Just hope she can keep this up.”

He turned to the rest of the children, peeking out behind arcade machines and doorways-- they hoped so, too.

The soft chime of six reaches their ears as Elijah nodded to the rest-- soon enough they’ll get out of here, they're sure of it.  


\---

It was dark, damp and quite unnerving, she wasn’t sure how she got here-- she was positive she had gone home, had some food with her mother and father, and then went to sleep; was this another dream? She didn’t know. But she was somewhere unfamiliar and that set off some alarms.

It was a stage, she wasn’t sure how she got on a stage, but she was there; standing right next to a huge, hulking bear that seemed to wake up and look at her curiously, and she stared back, an eyebrow raised.

The bear takes her by the hand, and they both seem to look in the direction of something breaking. Nova swallowed thickly, and began to lead the bear around the place; it looked like a restaurant, and something gave Nova this strange feeling of anxiety as she headed for the office.

The bear stops her in the hallway, and points to the wall to their left-- and she looked, before her eyes seemed widen a bit, wait-- there were pictures that stood out against others, and she noticed the drawing of a figure knocking on a poster twice ( she did that ), and then there was a different picture, a code on an arcade machine, she thinks; something was odd there, and she ponders back to the horror attraction; there were arcade machines there, right? Maybe one of those worked.

She shakes her head then, leading the bear to the office; she doesn’t see anything of importance, and she clicked her tongue, beginning to head towards the noise then.

After a few moments of walking, they find themselves in the bathroom hall, the bear seemed to let go and wander towards an open doorway-- and Nova notices him promptly stop, a strange “bzzt” emitting from him before he turns to look at her sadly, he walks closer to her--

\--And Nova shrieks when something suddenly breaks him to pieces, a man, a tall man with terrifying purple eyes and a manic grin ( she hated it immediately, she hated it because he reminded her of someone and she hated it-- ).

Her hands go to her eyes when she sees him raise the axe in his grip a final time; and it seems to go black once more.

_One down. Three to go._

\---

“Are you sure we should be here?” The young man asked, climbing over the boards as he followed the older man into the building, he seemed to wait for a response, looking around as his boss seemed to fiddle with his phone, before sound emits from it.

[ YES. ] Comes a text-to-speech response, the younger man clicked his tongue as the older man types in another sentence, [ YOU KNOW WHY WE’RE HERE, ALLEN. ]

“I’m aware, boss.” He sighed, clicking his tongue, “I just don’t see why I had to cover it up as a lead; you yourself said there was something here, why didn’t we get it immediately?”

A pause as his boss stops walking, and he types something into his phone again.

[ THE MECHANISMS OF THE FRIGHT ARE FAR MORE OVERWHELMING THAN WHAT I KNEW OF THE PREVIOUS NIGHT SHIFTS. ] The older man began, [ I WANTED NOVA TO GET USED TO THEM; AND SO WHEN YOU AND SELENA HAVE TO POP IN TO HELP, SHE CAN SHOW YOU WHAT TO DO. ]

Allen’s blue eyes wander to the left towards a wall as he stood there, before frowning a little, nodding understandingly, “...I see.” He replied softly, “That’s kind of you, boss. But why?”

[ WHAT WE’RE ABOUT TO FIND IS VOLATILE. ] Was all the man responded with, turning a corner into what Allen thinks is a bathroom hallway; faded pizza decor on the walls and signs covered in dust from the years.

They stop at the top of the hallway, in front of what appeared to be a boarded-off room, the bossman looked to him, and gave a nod before he began to pull down the boards; they snap and crumble easily, and again does Allen assume that the years of wear and tear contributed to that.

Once the boards have been removed, the older man steps inside, beckoning Allen to follow-- to which he does, a hand raising nervously to clutch at the pocket watch around his neck. It was dark in the room, and the smell was awful; something old, and rotted-- and Allen wasn’t sure if that was a good thing as the older man turned on his flashlight.

He covered his mouth in disgust as he saw the monstrosity sat near the wall, a blood-covered, worn arm raised to cover dead white eyes from the light as the being gave a crooked, haunting laugh.

**“W-- well, well we--ll..”** He started, **“I th-- thought you’d hav--e died by n-- now, _Sammy_ …”** The monster taunts, the older man’s eyes seem to harden as he stared at the thing in disgust, his free hand typing a response from the phone.

[ YOU CERTAINLY KILLED MY VOICE, OLD MAN. ] The voice stated, [ I’M NOT HERE TO PLAY NICE. WE’RE TAKING YOU TO YOUR PHYSICAL HELL WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT. ]

Allen just swallows thickly as Sammy reaches over to shut off the robot.

_Oh, Nova,_ he thinks, _you are in for a horrid surprise_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let's! fucking! gOOOOOOO-
> 
> y'all get an extra long chapter here!! i'm currently a little bit sick rn so i'm just out of it so i made this longer for you all to enjoy; and i hope you'll like the minigame gimmicks! to put it simply, they work like something akin to lucid dreaming; except it's a pull into the flipside itself! the bracelet shows what nova's managed to unlock so far.
> 
> and, well... guess we have a returning face on the scene, eh? a few, actually! ;D
> 
> regardless, thanks for reading! night 2 will be out asap... pray for nova, she's gonna get a pretty nasty surprise


	26. Cake Quest.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One child down.

She didn’t know why she felt so tense in that office; was it the air? Was it the building? It was just fine yesterday, nothing was wrong-- but now… now there was this awful, terrible energy that she hated, it was an energy that made her feel ill ( like something malicious was in the building, like it wanted to hurt-- to _kill_ ).

She took a breath, rubbing her throat uncomfortably-- she really did not feel safe, like, at all-- her eyes close as she bites the inside of her cheek, seeming to think as her eyebrows knit together.

What changed about this place?

Her train of thought is interrupted by the phone beginning to ring, she reaches over, pressing a button on the device to begin to play the message she needed to hear ( Allen’s voice, no matter the accent, did bring some sort of comfort to her ). She leaned back in her chair as she listened to the man begin, taking note of the faint shuffling of papers-- did he write points to tell her? Just what did he find?

“Hey, man- okay, I have some awesome news for you!” That… is probably going to explain why it felt so different, Nova pressed her lips together as she looked to the cameras, flicking around them occasionally as the other continued.

“First of all, we found some vintage audio training cassettes! Dude, these are, like, prehistoric! I think they were, like, training tapes for like, other employees or something like that. So, I thought we could, like, have them playing, like, over the speakers as people walk through the attraction. Dude, that makes this feel legit, man.” Audio cassettes? She hadn’t seen such things, actually-- she knew of vhs tapes, sure, but not audio cassettes ( she remembers her uncle mentioning that he had one, back in the day ). But that wasn’t what felt different, no… it had to be something more.

“But I have an even better surprise for you, and you're not gonna believe this--” There’s the sound of shuffling papers.

“--We found one.”

No.

“A **real** one.”

Nova felt the temperature of the room drop; her hands clasping tight to the cameras as her fingers moved on their own; in an attempt to search-- did it move? Was it alive ( oh God, she hoped not )...?

“Uh-oh-uh gotta go man- uh, well-well look, i-it's in there somewhere, I'm-I'm sure you'll see it. Okay, I'll leave you with some of this great audio that I found! Talk to you later, man!” She hears, and there was a click, the teen just gives the phone this squint, oh, she was going to have a chat with Allen tomorrow if she lived.

...If. She shakes her head, no-- she _will_ live.

“Uh, hello! Hello, hello! Uh, welcome to your new career as a performer/entertainer for Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Uh, these tapes will provide you with much needed information on how to handle / climb into / climb out of mascot costumes. Right now, we have two specially designed suits that double as both animatronics and suits.” She hears then, and she frowned, side-eyeing the phone quizzically, “So please pay close attention while learning how to operate these suits as accidents / injuries / death / irreparable and grotesque maiming can occur.”

Grotesque maiming? She utters a curse under her breath as she looks to the cameras, listening closely-- and then she sees the damn thing, in the corner of the monitor with one silver eye peering out-- Nova slammed the audio button, and switched cams to seal the nearest vent.

She places the tablet back as the man droned on, she didn’t really need to hear about this-- did she? She stands looking around the room as she thumbed the charm on her bracelet with knitted eyebrows; right. Okay, she almost forgot about that. She didn’t want to be in the office anymore-- she already felt a bit overwhelmed with the information she learned from Allen, but…

If she went out there… she’d be open to the thing out there, too. She placed her hands to her face and slapped her cheeks, a form of wake-up call. She sighed deeply, closing her eyes as she seemed to think ( strategies and equations pop around off of the top of her head ), she then opened her eyes, looking a bit determined as she headed off into the maze of items.

Light footsteps, shoes making barely a peep as she peeks around corners and ducks into the arcade-filled hallway, she finds a lone machine ( a part of her wondered if maybe arcade machines are haunted too ), but she shakes her head, looking around once more before inputting the code ( it takes her a moment to remember it ).

And once more; it all goes black.

When she next focused in… all she was-- was a head. A head. This could not get any weirder. She could move, and touch things; it was like the rest of her body was invisible, which was… quite odd. And she began to move, taking her time ( and dodge some weirdo little kid who wanted to tear her down again ), she grabbed bits and pieces, reassembling herself-- it was a strange experience, kind of like placing armor on top of her limbs, she could guess-- but once she was all put-together did she realise that… she was a fox.

Mangle, she thinks it was-- her grandfather often spoke about them, seeming to hold no ill will despite the fox biting his arm off. Nova shakes her head, and looks around-- she needed to focus, to figure out if she could noclip through a wall or not; and it didn’t take her much time to find it… considering she accidentally tripped through it, oops?

She falls-- and she lands, balloons in vibrant red softening her fall as she sits up, and turns her head, looking around-- and she sees more of them, and so she begins her trek; across red surfaces and leaping over the gaps, free and experienced.

She sees it, then; a cake, three-layered and pink in colour, a part of her wonders who it was for ( she knows it wasn’t for her ), but she reaches out to take it, and her vision shifts-- back to the hallway, surrounded by machines and wires. Nova swallowed-- she knew what she had to do next. So she shifted down the hall, a hand raising to knock the poster as she paused then; listening closely in case the thing had come near ( she did, however, hear the brief shuffle of a vent and a head hitting a door-- he crawled into the seal, nice ).

She steels herself and knocks the poster, watching her vision switch from the green, tarnished walls to black and blue pixels ( it was like a game, she could swear; but it was a lot of fun to do ), she disregards the balloons this time, entering through the wall and falling-- she sees more balloons, and it clicks, so she went for those, landing against thin but unbreakable plastic surface, and she gets up, clicking her tongue.

Will never understand the physics here, she thinks to herself.

She hops along the stationary pixels, taking careful steps in case she fell-- and once she reached solid ground did she start running-- she could see a figure in the distance, one that was simply standing there, crying. They were small; and it was something that sent a small shock ( she hated seeing kids cry ), and so she ran.

She slows to a stop once she comes close enough, her hand reaching to fiddle with her bracelet ( it took her a moment to realise another charm was added; a birthday cake ) she kneels on one knee, her elbow resting on the other as she looks up at the child.

“Hey,” she started, “are you alright?” The teenager can only tilt her head as the child looked to her, blinking his own tears away-- it takes her a moment to recognise him as Mike’s brother. Elijah could only stare at her before Nova seemed to get an idea.

She snapped the cake charm from her bracelet and placed it down on the floor-- and the pixels slowly built up to become a cake, the boy seemed to stare at it, and then looked at her.

And Elijah smiled, and her vision suddenly bugs back to the hallway. Nova stands rubbing her eyes as she looks at the bracelet once more; a neat little Freddy charm was on it, and the girl could only beam at her accomplishment ( but she had a feeling she wasn’t done yet ).

That smile dropped when she heard footsteps from the other end of the hall, however, her head moved to look towards the source of that noise-- and she locks eyes with the rotting white eyes of a hulking rabbit. She balked, a hand raising to rub her other arm as she watched him warily, eyes wide as she stood her ground for a moment.

It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

Then chaos broke loose, the rabbit lunges for her, and Nova lunges for the door, she needed to run, back to the office and placate the beast that wanted her dead, sneakers slammed against the dirtied tiles as she ran, turning a sharp corner as she could hear the sudden clunking of metal coming after her, she hops on her feet for a moment, dashing for the office throughout the maze of fright and terror, she skids into the office, swiping the tablet open and frantically hitting the audio ( the cameras were off; she needed to reset those ).

She hears the metal clanking slowed, and then turned in curiosity towards the audio playing in another part of the building, limping off to search for it, she collapses in her seat, pulling her knees to her chest as she heaved.

“Holy shit.” She murmured, “Ohhh my god…” The adrenaline was pumping, but that was terrifying. She hated every moment of that as she took a moment to collect herself, eyes closed as she laid her head on her knees.

It was only then that Nova became scarily aware that she was bleeding from the side-- the fucker nicked her. Guess she wasn’t fast enough to avoid getting back unscathed, she bit her lip, leaning back in the chair again as she sighed.

Nova visibly relaxed when it turned to 6 AM, shoulders untensing and body growing a little heavy-- she finds it in herself to get up and leave, but not before flipping off the rabbit on the cameras.

Her mum’s gonna kill her.

\---

...She’s back again. The pizzeria was damp and dark, it was something she wasn’t used to, but she had to suck it up, before even thinking about moving the next robot, Nova had gone to check the hallway ( cupcakes, strangely enough, but that’s fine ), once she had wandered back to the stage did she see the bunny power on, watching her almost skeptically-- she simply gave a nod in greeting, before gently taking him by the hand and beginning to lead-- towards the room in the bathroom hall.

Once there, she watched the blue-purple robot try to enter it, but she noticed it was the same situation with the bear… no dice, it came back to her, huffing a little bit before that man suddenly struck-- she winced as she had to witness it, bits and pieces strewn all over the floor-- like a massacre. And Nova hated it.

She finds it in herself to look more closely-- and he looks back, the teen’s shoulders seem to tense-- oh, he was staring right through her.

He was so familiar, and she didn’t know why.

The last thing she sees are those piercing purple eyes as it all goes black.

\---

[ LOOKS LIKE A SCRATCH FROM THE OLD MAN. ] The automated voice piped up as Michael and Norah inspect the wound, [ GUESS SHE CROSSED PATHS WITH HIM FINALLY. ]

“Sammy… you could have at least locked him in a room.” Norah tutted, pressing her antiseptic wipe against the claw-like wound, “It’s deep enough to leave a scar…” She sighed then, her daughter… her baby girl.

“Norah, you have a scary look in your eyes.” Michael commented, unrolling bandage wrap, “You know we can’t interfere with this stuff… our jobs have long since been finished.”

[ IT DOESN’T MEAN YOU CAN’T HELP. ] Sammy offered as he sat next to Nova, who was primarily focused on her Nintendo Switch to distract herself.

Norah shook her head, frowning as she took the wrap from Michael, Nova seemed to clutch the Switch tighter for a moment.

“...Who was he, anyways?” She finally asked, frowning when the room went eerily silent.

Michael seemed to think, before looking to the other two adults-- they all seemed to be in agreement.

“Alright.” Michael started, “We’ll call your grandpa Jere and the others, as nightwatchmen… we owe you an explanation.”

He reaches out, ruffling the girl’s orange hair.

“Welcome to the nightsquad, Nova.” He spoke, “I hope you’re ready to keep huge secrets.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have started calling the nightwatchpeople the nightsquad bc im a bastard oop?
> 
> anyways!! nova is simply a fool, and she's about to learn some tea, as always, thanks for readin!!!


	27. Cupcake Crusader.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two children down.

“ _Cheeky_ motherfucker,” she observed as she swiped some blood from her face ( her fault, she walked into the doorframe ); eyes narrowed at the camera tablet as she stood at the other end of the office, “thinkin’ he could take me down with just one swipe… luckily I’m updated on my fucking _tetanus_ shot.” She grumbled, feeling the weight in her left hand as she idly swung the object in her grasp to and fro, “Hopefully we don’t cross paths again.”

Her eyes then linger down to the object, sturdy wood and painted metal; a fire axe, “It’d be a shame for him to be destroyed by the same thing he used to do such.” She raises the axe then, eyebrow raising before she chuckled and shook her head, she hears the beep; and she looked around-- she’d best get going, then, the phone on the desk beginning to reel about springlock suits; Nova didn’t pay much attention.

Those souls won’t save themselves-- not like they could, anyways, she begins her trek, swinging the axe onto her shoulder to make the weight easier to carry ( compared to her short stature of 4’10”, an axe is pretty heavy ), she takes quick steps as she wandered throughout the establishment, hiding around corners and ducking away when she sees the rabbit-- collecting any cupcakes she could find around the place.

Nova just didn’t exactly realise that they were physical, and they look rotten and disgusting. It’s _fine_ , that’s fine-- she just needed to get four of them and then head back to the office! Just get them and get back to safety.

She vaguely remembers Michael grilling her a little about being cautious, and the teenager rolls her eyes, shaking her head as she heads for the office with four cupcakes in her grasp. She’s quick, ducking into the office with much time to spare and using the camera’s audio lure to direct the rabbit further away ( a part of her jumps when she sees something strange on one camera-- a little boy, grinning with silver eyes, she switched fast ).

“Okay, alright.” Her attention shifts to the cupcakes she dumped on the desk, and she swallowed thickly, standing and walking over to them.

She picked up one of them, and took a breath, _time to give herself food poisoning_. She took a bite-- and it all went black.

“God, ew, disgusting.” Was the first thing that came out of her mouth when she woke up, she sees black and green; she noticed a plate in her grip, and she stands, huffing a little bit as she looked around-- crying children, but not the kind she was used to-- and she curses her motherly disposition before beginning to head over; she looks from the plate and then back to see… cupcakes. Nova glanced at the children, and then began to hand out the sweet treats, watching them all light up.

Nova just smiles-- this was what Fazbear’s should have been, a place of joy and happiness-- the franchise shouldn’t have been used for murder and horrible deeds, she brings the plate to her chest, wrapping her arms around it as she began to wander, looking for a wall that can be walked through; but to no avail.

“...If it’s not the walls--” Her eyes fall to the floor, and she squinted, hopping across platforms and jumping right into one-- only to get stuck in it, “Ah, yep. There it is.” A weird predicament to be in, sure; but it is something she’ll make do with. She moves through the floor-- and then she drops into a box with platforms, climbing up before she sets her sights on the target of her mission.

A young boy crouched into a foetal position, arms crossed over his knees as he buried his face in his sleeves, Nova approached, kneeling next to him, cake charm in hand.

“Hey, kid.” She greeted, and the boy’s dead blue eyes shifted to look at her, an expression of curiosity on his face, Nova smiled, tilting her head, “Want some cake?” It was the only thing she could offer, and the boy’s expression seems to soften a little at the offer.

“I’d like that, miss.” He spoke, and Nova slammed the charm down on the floor-- to which the cake popped up, and the raven-haired boy clapped.

“Thank you,” he whispered to her, “I hope you’ll come to the party.”

Everything darkened-- and Nova awakes to find herself in her office chair with a new charm on her bracelet ( a blue-purple bunny, cute ), she blinked, and looked to the cameras, noting the time-- 5:40 AM, good, good-- and she snorted when she catches sight of the springlock suit proceeding to bump into the sealed vent she had set up before leaving.

“Holy shit, his brain must have rotted, too.” She whispered, grinning ear-to-ear with amusement, though her smile falls when she sees the rabbit’s eyes lock with the camera. She swallowed thickly, eyes narrowing then.

She wondered if he knew. It might not seem obvious, but if her mom and uncle came to the Fright, then… there’s a chance he’d realise, but she wondered if that would make things worse? She shakes her head then, pulling her knees to her chest ( and putting a bit of pressure on her wound; not like she cared about it ). The time ticks by, and she sighed in relief when the clock turned six.

She picks up her bag and the axe, slinging the bag over her shoulder and walking out of the office-- but she stops, head turning to her right as she left, and her throat went dry as she sees the robot around the corner, and they lock eyes.

It’s too quiet, she stands there, hand gripping the axe as she stared at him, before she turned back, exhaling through her nose, “Fuck off.” She muttered as she left.

She swore she could hear a haunting chuckle as she did.

\---

She was back again, sitting on the stage as she gives the awakening chicken animatronic a side-glance, eyes half-lidded as she swung her legs, she couldn’t help but wonder what they were; Michael never told her much about the old restaurants, just that the man she’s been seeing is a very, very bad person-- and to be careful of him. Not like she even knew who the man was-- all she knew was that he was someone her mother and uncle abhorred.

She stands, holding up a finger for the chicken to stay in place before running off to the hall again, she checks the wall, squinting in pure confusion as she stands there, “...Three… nine, five-- two, four, eight..” She mumbled, eyebrows furrowed before shaking her head and taking a pen out of her pocket, writing it on the back of her hand before heading back.

Nova grabs Chica by the hand and begins to lead her off to where they needed to go, having to steel herself before entering the bathroom hall and pushing the robot towards the room, before flinching at the struggle to get in-- and the inevitable destruction of the poor chicken.

She peeked over to look at the carnage, cringing at the metal and oil across the floor, and her eyes flick up to the man, chaotic grin and condescending eyes that stared at the remains of the chicken’s head before they looked to her, and the more she stared-- the more her head hurt.

Nova screwed her eyes shut as it started going black-- deal with it for now, girl… it’ll be okay.

\---

“--And he said to me ‘ **Sel, are you crazy?** ’ Why, yes. Yes I am.” The chatter of her cousin snaps Nova out of her thoughts as she looks up from her ice cream, Allen was letting out a tired sigh as he sits there, a hand on his face, “Nerve of that guy, though!” The blonde continued, “People nowadays, assuming a girl can’t make a cool machine.”

“That’s because your machine and ideas are insane, Selena.” Allen spoke dryly, sipping his soda whilst Nova takes a bite of the brownie served with her ice cream, the blonde girl gives a mock gasp, looking offended, “What?” Allen asked, “It’s true, one time you managed to fix Mr. Fitzgerald’s robotic arm. And you outfitted it with a _fucking BB gun_.”

“I thought gramps could use a good upgrade.” Selena retorts, sticking her tongue out, Nova remained quiet, looking between them-- she seemed to think, taking note of something before she drew the attention of the other two.

“You’re pretty quiet, Comet.” Selena spoke then, leaning her head on one of her hands, “Somethin’ on your mind? Is your job tiring you out?” Nova paused, wondering if she should be transparent-- should she tell them? Or… did they already know? She looked at the ice cream again, eyes half-lidded.

“Something like that.” She replied, looking at them, “Allen, the robot you brought back…”

“Say no more.” Allen murmured, sighing as he looked to the two girls, “That thing… s’called Springtrap, it’s what Mr. Coriander said to call it, it seems… sentient, and malicious, right?” Nova nodded to him, “Okay, well… rumour has it that the reason why is because it’s possessed, with remnant-- Mr. Coriander says that it’s a substance that’s like ice, cold and deadly.”

Nova frowned then, looking away before looking back, “Is that why I’m on the job?” She pressed then.

Allen nodded, “Sorta, yeah. But you have a bigger reason… I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon.” He fiddled with the pocket watch around his neck, and Nova watched it.

Clocks… it was his motif, something she loved about Allen-- his consistency. Lately, though… he’s been a bit scatterbrained, but she doesn’t mention it. Selena looked between them both, and then spoke up.

“Oi! Enough sentimentality-- we’re here to eat, right? C’mon; let’s get another round of ice-cream, it’s on me.” She winked, and the two gave a small smile each.

Nova could only ponder to herself quietly as Selena called over the waiter, eyes falling to the written code on her hand.

“I wonder,” she whispered to herself, “if he says it’s like ice… would it melt with fire?”

She’ll just have to wait to strike with that theory; and she had the _perfect_ plan for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe nova go brrrrrrrr
> 
> anyways!! here's the next chapter! i dont have much to say about this one, but other than that, i hope you enjoyed reading! i'll be taking questions about the story on prizecornerz on tumblr, so feel free to ask what you want!!
> 
> thanks for reading!


	28. Heart of Gold.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three children down.

She thinks it might be way, way too quiet in the Fright. So quiet that she could hear her own thoughts; something Nova rarely ever could do ( focusing was not something she did a lot ). She fidgets with the lighter in her hand as she ignites it, then shuts it off-- a rinse and repeat process, as long as her hands were doing something, it meant that she could function.

Even so, between her dream sequences and surviving Springtrap ( and the phantoms, as she’s begrudgingly come to learn about ), Nova was never really one to take breaks, she was a busy bee ( a very busy bee ), but she was smart enough to calculate and strategize in even the most briefest of moments-- and this is what she thinks has helped her so far. Even so-- she couldn’t help but be concerned, since she was in the same building as one thing that could kill her, and multiple others that can mess with her systems.

It was why she was relieved to know that her next entrance into the sequence was inside the office; though, she wouldn’t have thought it’d be a dialpad made up of wall tiles-- her hand brushes across the green, dirtied walls as she sighed, eyes going half-lidded as she knelt there, her head turns to look at the cameras, and she stands, going to check the tablet in case she needed to reset any systems-- or to lure away the thing that wants her dead.

Her finger raises to seal a vent and hit the audio lure; just as the clock strikes twelve. She looked up to the window at that moment, catching sight of a strange, hulking bear shuffling across the hallway before she averted her eyes and made her way back to the wall, holding up the code hastily written on her arm ( she was baffled by how she could still remember the code in such a short amount of time ), her hand moves, taking it’s time to punch in the numbers ( it’s weird, using a dialpad-like contraption ), yet once she presses that final button, it seems to darken--

\--And her focus comes back when she sees gold and black, talk about colour coordination, it’s like these guys had a thing for black. She clicked her tongue, looking around-- a stage, she was standing on a stage, alright. There were kids jumping around in front of it; and she blinks hard when she notices the animatronic next to her.

A golden rabbit, one that-- despite the pixelation-- gave Nova the feeling that they were friendly, and that they meant no harm ( yet for some reason they still left a bit of a bad taste in her mouth, maybe because of Springtrap ). Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she hopped off of the stage, beginning to feel around at the walls and floor for something to noclip through-- but to no avail, she didn’t find anything.

Her hands go to her hips as her eyebrows furrowed, blue-ish-purple eyes closed as she began to pace, trying to think and rationalise what she should do next-- and then she abruptly stops, opening her eyes and locking down when she hears some… really weird noise, before her eyes went wide at what she was seeing.

Her leg… was halfway through the stage, “Well.” She started quietly, stepping through and cringing at the sound it makes, “This is less noclipping-- more, uh… glitching?” She didn’t know what it could be called, really, but it was something she could use, and she’ll do just that, making her way right through the wall and falling… onto another platform?

“...What?” She looked around then, and her expression gives a strange mix of confusion and tired annoyance, “...Ah, dialpads.” She muttered then, looking around at the numerous boxes-- she then looked at the platform she was on, before counting, “...I should be on number eight, right?” She wondered then, “Maybe it’s the-- the same code as before? So I should make my way up to three, but…” She clicked her tongue and shook her head then.

“Pull yourself together!” She huffed, raising her hands to pat her face, “You’re called ‘Comet’ for a reason.” She grumbled then, “Good at parkour… I could maybe use that, I think?” She looked around, “Combining that with the glitching…” She stated then, before running for the sixth box and jumping-- glitching halfway through the wall.

And then she began to pull herself up-- it’s… a weird experience, moving through walls ( what was this? Portal? ). Her hands laid flat on the top of the box as she pulled herself out of the wall, before looking up directly, the box above was where she needed to go, right? She thinks it might be, anyways-- her head shifted to the box next to it; the second box, and then her gaze fell to the fifth box, at least she’ll have something to land on if she didn’t get the jump.

So she runs; and she leaps, just barely getting the edge of the box in her grip ( she could hear her heart beginning to pound in her ears ), she begins to pull herself up again-- and she gets a peek into the box-- seeing the rabbit and the children again, she frowned, shaking her head as she pulled herself onto the top of the box, she sighed, and then pinched the bridge of her nose.

She could see something-- red and blue, balloons and cake alongside smiling faces, she saw a bear and a rabbit on stage, at least for a moment-- and she shakes her head, standing, whatever is happening in this sequence was something that freaked her out, and she wanted out. She swallowed a lump in her throat and turned to the third box, and dashed for it.

She glides down the wall for a moment, and pushes herself through-- landing on the floor with an unceremonious thud, she could hear crying, and her vision fizzles out once more ( blood, she could see blood on the bear, and she could hear screaming, yelling for someone to wake up ), she shakes her head rapidly, standing before looking to the source of the noise-- a little girl, wiping tears from her eyes furiously, hiccupping, and so she drew closer, kneeling.

“Hey, sweetheart.” The tone was sisterly, something she couldn’t help-- the girl looked at her, blue eyes blinking away tears-- Nova could only give her a smile, “Would cake help you feel better?”

“I-- y… yeah.” She responded, before running a hand through one of her blonde pigtails, “I… I would like that, miss.”

She gave an understanding nod, and snapped the cake charm from her bracelet, throwing it to the floor-- the girl gasps when the cake appears, and she gave Nova a big smile ( it felt good, Nova thought, to bring smiles to children who deserved it-- maybe she should pursue a career with kids after this ).

“You’ll be-- you’ll be at the party, won’t you?” The younger girl asked, taking her hand, “Please come! I’m-- I’m sure that everyone would want you there! I do!” She exclaimed, and Nova reached her free hand to place it on her head.

“I’ll be there,” she assured her, “I promise!” The younger girl’s grin seemed to brighten a little more, giving her hand a squeeze as it begins to go dark.

“The-- the poster, the one with the puppet! After you’re done with the last kid… please go there.” She requested, and that was the last thing she heard before she woke up back in the office.

Nova blinked hard, patting her face again as she goes to stand, taking a deep breath; puppet poster, alright… okay, sounds like an easy task to do after she’s done with whatever she needed to do tomorrow night, she felt around her pocket for the lighter again, and pats it when she felt the little shape, she then wandered towards the camera, making a note to check the rotten rabbit-- before wincing.

He was close-- too close. Her hand raises to flick between the nearby cameras, to try and divert him-- away from her, most preferably. She clicked the audio lure, and cursed when the cameras fizzled out, she moved across the office to the maintenance panel and began to reset the cams, keeping her vision away from the window when she noticed not one, but two phantoms staring at her. Nope, no thank you-- she was not dealing with those today!

She hears a little beep, and she zipped over to the cameras once more to make sure he had followed the audio lure-- but saw nothing, looking a little bit nervous at the realisation that he’s somewhere else-- and then she hears clanking.

Nova looked up, and froze in place when she saw the damn monster staring at her through the window, her heart leapt to her throat, and she stared-- a deer caught in headlights, something she hated being-- and the rotted, green animatronic stared back.

The teenager could note that his eyes were almost human-like, silver and dead. Her hands shake and she sucks in a deep breath before her eyes flick to the clock-- two minutes until the end of the shift-- and she looks back to the rabbit, watching him, she tensed more when the lights begin to flicker.

The vents, _dammit_ \-- she should have reset those just in case-- a hand raises to her mouth as she looks at the clock again-- one minute, it’s sixty seconds, she can last, she can do this. Nova assures herself that she will be fine.

She focuses back on Springtrap, and the lights keep flickering, it was getting harder to breathe, thirty seconds.

Nova takes a breath, hand to her mouth; eyes narrowed to keep watch, twenty seconds.

Her vision flickers-- and she sees him move to peek at her through the door before hiding, she holds her breath, an attempt to prolong the inevitable, ten seconds.

Nine, eight, seven, her vision fizzles once more, and now he’s on the other side of the door, peeking at her almost terrifyingly, six, five four.

Three, two, her vision goes, and she sees him move closer.

“ _One_.” She whispered as he raises his hand to her neck-- the clock chimes, and she hears something begin to function deep within the building-- the ventilations click, and Nova finds it in herself to finally breathe again despite the close proximity of the monster before her, she grins, taking a slight step back before her hand closes to a fist in front of her mouth-- and she coughs and heaves, that was awful.

She might need to keep a closer eye on the maintenance panel now, the rabbit stares at her, almost like he was sizing her up-- Nova grits her teeth as he leaned closer, seeming to stare right into her very soul.

Then she hears it, a whisper-- one just barely hearable with how close he was, and it shakes her, because now she knows it can speak-- he can speak. Her hands raise to hug herself as she steps back some more then, before circling past him quickly as she grabbed her axe and her bag, leaving as fast as she could.

**“M-- my, my…”** His voice comes out then, to no one in particular, **“You’ve raised a firecracker…”**

\---

It was a different location from the stage-- something she thought would have happened, after all, there were no animatronics on that stage anymore-- a bandaged hand raises to pull the starry curtain away from covering the robot within-- and she blinked once when she sees him inside, as though he was waiting for her, a fox, red in colour and looking vaguely like a pirate ( she could swear that she head Michael speak of the robot, she thinks it was his favourite ). She paused, looking at him before making a ‘wait here’ motion and running to the hall.

She’s kind of happy the area was right next to it, actually-- her eyes scan the wall of drawings, a hand placing itself along the paper as she searched for her clue; before she sees it, a crudely-drawn black rabbit with white eyes and a large, toothy grin. Nova squinted, before she tilted her head-- she’s seen this before, she’s sure of it, if she didn’t… then she wouldn’t have found the design familiarly sweet. Maybe it was her tastes-- she didn’t know.

Nova shakes her head then, heading back and taking the pirate animatronic by the hook, a little smile on her face as she begins to lead him-- it wasn’t a genuine smile, it was pity-- because she knew she was leading him to his own destruction, and she hated it. She leads him across the dining room, and to the bathroom hall before gently shoving him in the direction of the room.

He obliges, stepping over almost gingerly to try and enter-- but to no avail, he fails thrice, he begins to make her way back to her, and Nova could only cover her eyes when she sees the man from before step out of the room, she hears metal and wires being broken to pieces, and she finds it in herself to look at the multitude of parts and mechanisms strewn across the floor.

She looks up then, staring at the older man with a frown, he seems out of breath-- but a part of her didn’t care, he had it coming to him after destroying things children adored-- she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as everything faded.

Nova could only hope she could find out what happened soon.

\---

“Nova, darlin’?” She hears, and she looked up to see her mother peeking into her room, purple eyes staring at her, “Are… you okay? You came back looking quite rattled.” She spoke, entering gingerly, the redhead couldn’t help but smile a little at her, before rubbing one of her eyes as she looked to her phone.

“Yeah, ma-- sorry if I worried you.” She murmured, “Or pa, um… I wanted to ask about your family.” She looked at her, and she noticed her mother’s shoulders tense, Nova tilted her head, and she continued, “Um… what-- what was your dad like? Uncle Michael doesn’t talk about him, neither do you. I just… I’m just curious.”

Norah frowned, a hand going to her mouth as she looked away, seeming to think, and then she looked back, “Honey…” She started off, “Your grandfather-- _my_ father-- he… wasn’t a very nice man, on the surface, he was, but… he was a great actor.” She sighed, closing her eyes then, “He’s long gone, though… so don’t worry about him, okay?” Norah gives her a smile then, “Dinner’s gonna be ready in ten minutes, your uncle’s coming over-- and grandpa Jere.” She chirped, and Nova laughed then.

“Can’t wait, ma.” She replied, watching the woman leave, her smile fell and then she looked back at her desk, silent, “...Then what did he mean by that?” She wondered then, holding her phone to her chest as the words play loud and clear in her mind;

**‘ You really _are_ one of us. ‘**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tea's SCALDINGGGGG
> 
> either way, i hope you like this chapter!! we're slowly coming to the climax of the happiest day, and then we'll have our night six finale! i hope you're all enjoying the shenanigans so far, because i'm having a blast writing them!
> 
> thanks for reading! until next time ;)


	29. Happiest Day.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party they never got to have.

_Breathe in, breathe out, count to ten,_ she tells herself. Nova sat at the office desk with her head in her hands, fingers massaging her temples as she took a moment to collect herself, _it’s gonna be okay, you’re anxious over nothing._

She looks up, her hands moving from her head to enclose into fists on the table, her eyes staring through the window towards the green, dirtied wall. Nova gritted her teeth-- she exhaled through her nose, and then looked to her right-- towards the shadows of the office corner, she reached in-- and pulled out a figurine, taller and more lanky than the rest of what she’s seen, but still a figurine nonetheless.

“Looks 3D-printed.” She observed softly, twisting it around in her grip with a little frown, eyes half-lidded as she leaned her head on her free hand, “I do wonder how such a small thing is going to play such a big part.” She murmured, before snickering, “...That sounds like something my uncle would say about me.” She chimed then, shaking her head and placing it down, she looked to the clock then, eyes focused on the minute hand ticking ever-closer towards her shift starting.

She recounts the steps in her head; get the sequence, run to the poster, complete their happiest day. It was simple, right? It sounded simple-- and it was easier said than done with the rabbit lurking in the halls. She ran a hand through her hair, auburn locks sticking out when she did, she grabbed the ribbon on the desk, and tied up a part of her hair-- an up-down style, something she always preferred wearing, her eyes flick back to the clock, and then she sees the hand strike midnight.

“Well, here we go.” She breathed, grabbing the figurine and squeezing it-- she screwed her eyes such, waiting for the feeling of mild nausea to pass before she opened her eyes-- and her confusion was evident, “What… the hell?” She wondered, looking around in surprise, the terrain was familiar-- it was the first sequence, black background and blue platforms, but how?   
  


She clicked her tongue, eyes narrowing as she seemed to think, before her head turns down to the floor; she noticed her limbs had switched in colour-- what once was pale flesh and faded red clothing had descended into black, glitching pixels and strange grey lines all over them, she turned her hands, seeming to think before clapping-- and flinching when the area changes once more, Nova cussed something fierce in that moment of surprised, before collecting herself.

“Glitching.” She observed, clapping a few more times, all familiar places-- all except one, the background was a mess, shades of purples and greys littering the walls as she looked around-- she was in a box, once again, and out of the corner of her eye did she see the final child sat outside it, crying her eyes out.

She couldn’t help but feel bad. But her mind had begun to work and she had begun to think and theorise, her eyes went to the wall, and a thought came to mind-- she could walk through the blue wall, right?-- and her hands raise to clap, it takes a while for her to get the hang of switching so quickly, but she does eventually stop at the blue box after about four tries. She hoists herself onto the platforms, jumping between each before passing through the wall.

Nova lands, and she pulls herself up, dusting off her knees before looking around-- darkness, like she had truly gone blind ( was this how her uncle felt when he’d close his good eye? )-- she shakes her head and pats her face, she shouldn’t get distracted, not now, and so she raises her hands to clap once more, and the terrain shifts until she comes to the purple mess of a stage. She sees her; the small child curled in on herself, and Nova thinks she didn’t look any older than seven ( poor girl, she’s been through so much ), she tucked a few loose locks of hair behind her ear before she crouched, looking to her bracelet to remove her cake charm ( the terror from the other night made her forget to check for the newest charm; a chicken; cute ), she breaks it from the bracelet, and looked to her.

“Hey,” she greeted, gaining the little girl’s attention, “you wanna head to the party? I got your cake for you.” She questioned, the girl nodded, rubbing tears away from her eyes and Nova placed it down-- watching the cake pop into existence from the charm, the little girl seemed to brighten up a little as she watched it, before turning to the Fright guard.

“Thank you.” She whispered, heterochromatic eyes staring through her, Nova could only give a little smile and a nod to her-- it was the very least she could do.

“I’ll see you at the party.” She chirped then, “I’ll come as quick as I can.”

“I hope you will, miss.” Catherine stated then, fastening a fox charm onto her bracelet, “They’re all waitin’, see you!”

Nova nodded once more as everything fades-- and she wakes back in the office, her eyes go to the clock immediately-- she still had time, so she stands, and looked to her wrist, smiling at the fox charm-- her hand then encloses into a fist as she looked to the cameras, she wandered over to check the footage-- and sets up the system she needed to keep the monster at bay before dashing out of the office.

She came to a stop near the poster then, and looked at it-- staring at the crudely-drawn puppet in its box, giving a child a present-- and her eyes danced down to the name on the drawing, and her heart softened. _Norah_ , her mom drew that. The name was clear as day, but Nova shook herself from distractions then, and knocked the poster, before the scenery around her changed to one that was… strange-- it was almost monochrome, with splashes of colour here and there; something Nova couldn’t help but find easy on the eyes.

Someone grabs her hand; and she looked to see a girl with blonde hair tied in a ponytail, a strange mask on her face ( the Marionette’s, Nova realised ), the girl gave her hand a squeeze before pointing down to the end of the hall, and Nova sees it-- a party, a small party of kids with masks and a boy that was barely younger than her at the end of the table, watching the space with a strange look in his eyes, the teenager looked to the girl, and she sighed.

“...Alright, let’s go.” She whispered, leading the girl down the hall and to the table, the four masked children looked to her, and the youngest girl had begun to hop excitedly, Nova reached her free hand to pat her head, and then retracted it when the girl with the puppet masked let go of her hand.

She knew what she needed to do. A hand fiddles with the cake charm once more as she looks around, before snapping it from the bracelet and placing it on the table-- just like that, the cake pops up, and the boy pulls a golden mask onto his face.

“Finally,” she hears the first girl speak, “it’s finally here. Their happiest day.” She looked to the puppet-masked girl, whose hands were clasped together, “The birthday party they never got to have.” She finished as the kids seem to crowd around the oldest boy. Nova looked over her shoulder, and took notice of a microphone on a different table, she tapped the girl next to her and whispered something before going to retrieve it and return.

The masked girl had pulled up a chair, to which Nova climbed onto, giving a goofy little grin as she stood there, one by one, the children’s attention turned to her, and she tapped the mic, giving a little nod.

“On behalf of Fazbear Entertainment... we're sorry.” She started, letting her free hand fall to her side as she stood, “We're sorry that we were the reason that none of you got to grow up. That none of you got to return home-- and that your loved ones... never got to find out what you all became.” There's a pause, and the girl seems to collect herself as she begins to start... tearing up. The children looked between each other, and then back to her as she gave a small smile.

“And _I'm_ so sorry, as a group we all are... that all of this has happened to you. That _so_ many people were involved with covering up your deaths to keep their _stupid_ brand running-- for that, I'm so... _so_ sincerely sorry. I really am.” Hands raise to wipe at her eyes, and she beams, placing her free hand on her hip. “Please... please go to them- the people up there who care about you, however large or small, you deserve this freedom after so much torment, after so much pain.”

“Miss…” The girl with the Foxy mask whispered, and the boy with the Freddy mask giggled tearfully, “You’re too kind.”

“Go, now. Because you're no longer bound by the chains of a _monster_. You're free... as you deserve to be. Live your Happiest Day.” She gave a nod then, and hopped down from the chair, placing the microphone on it, “...Haha, jeez-- sorry to cry during that.” She rubs the back of her neck, grinning, “I just... wanted you guys to know..” It takes a moment, but she found herself being crowded by four children, each clinging to her-- she was sure the girl in the Chica mask was crying, and all she could do was give a little laugh as she ruffled multiple heads of hair, “You kids are the _best_ kids a girl could ask for.”

_“...It’s time to go.”_ The teenage boy finally spoke, and the children all looked to him, before the boy with the Bonnie mask looked up to Nova, she gave him a grin, and a nod before one by one, they detached and walked over to the boy, he leans his palms on his knees, smiling at them from behind his mask, _“Let’s get you guys home.”_

With that, they had begun to fade, balloons began to fly, and soon the hall was empty save for Nova, the boy and the puppet-masked girl, who had both discarded their masks, letting them fall to the floor much like the four masks had as well, Nova looked between them both, smiling.

“...You two aren’t going?” She asked then, and they shook their heads, she chuckled, and closed her eyes, “I guess you guys still have business to take care of.”

_“That we do, dear Nightlight.”_ The boy spoke, black eyes gleaming for once, _“I suppose you know what it might be… but for now, you have to see this through to the end-- you’ll be alright, that we are sure of.”_ Everything begins to fade, and before Nova wakes, she hears him one last time.

_“Tell your mother and uncle that they’re free, won’t you?”_

And so she wakes, sitting up as she looked around-- she was in the hallway, and she stands, dashing back for the office before she had a chance to see that rotting bunny limp through the area, her hands were already working faster than her mind as she gripped the cameras, flicking through and checking for him-- she sees him just in the hallway between the arcade room and where she had just been, and she swallowed down her fears-- this man needed to go down. She taps the audio lure, sealing off vents and making sure he sticks back, if all else fails-- she could trap him in Cam 10.

Her eyes switched to the time, and she clicked her tongue, dammit, ten minutes until her shift was over, with those phantoms piling up and her nausea acting up, it’s gonna be a struggle to leave unscathed-- but being injured wasn’t something that could keep her down. Her eyebrows furrowed as she kept her eyes glued to the screen-- as long as she made sure the bastard didn’t move, she’d be fine, she’d be okay.

[ NEED HELP? ] Comes an automated voice, and Nova never brightened up so quickly, she turned, and the man before her gave a lopsided grin, [ ALLEN SAID HE HAD A BAD FEELING, MIGHT BE PARANOID, BUT YOU NEVER KNOW. ]

“Mr. Coriander,” she breathed, grinning ear-to-ear, “I am so damn glad to see you.” The man walked over, and patted her shoulder, before he looked at the cameras, expression becoming neutral, she could tell he was thinking-- and when he grinned then, Nova gave a confused glance.

[ LURE HIM TO THE ARCADE MACHINES. ] He commanded, and Nova followed through, eyebrow raised as she did-- what was he planning, exactly? She could only listen as she guided the rabbit to the arcade room, before Sammy gives out a strange, wheezing chuckle, [ HE’D PROBABLY GET DISTRACTED BY THE MACHINES FOR A BIT. ] Nova visibly relaxed then, and he patted her shoulder, [ GOOD WORK, KID. ]

“Thanks,” she breathed then, “I-- I got ‘em, freed ‘em all, I think.” She held up her bracelet, and he nodded, seeming to approve, “Just gotta… see it to the end, y’know?” She gave a small smile then, “Um… uncle probably won’t like it, though.”

The clock chimed six, and the duo exchanged a little fistbump, “...Let’s go home.” Nova spoke then, “I am gonna need sleep after the rollercoaster that was this shift.” With that, she began to head out, the man following her and chuckling a little bit.

Sammy couldn’t help but eye the lighter in her pocket, though.

He wondered why she had that.

\---

It’s _too_ quiet. Nova doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. But one thing was for certain… what was she to do now? No animatronics, no life… nothing. She sits on the stage, staring at the floor as she swung her legs a little-- but then she froze when she heard movement-- and she looked up.

The boy, walking towards the bathroom hall; and Nova felt obliged to follow, getting up and wandering behind him, arms crossed-- something felt… off-- she didn’t know how to feel about this. It felt wrong, but at the same… she couldn’t help her curiosity, and so she followed-- into the hall, and then into the room, before bearing witness to a startling scene; the boy, cornering the man who destroyed those robots whilst the rest of the children laugh, to the point where the man climbed into an old rabbit suit.

She knew where this was going the minute the locks snapped, Nova was only thankful for one thing-- she didn’t hear the scream. The ghosts all fade away, and the man is left twitching in a pile of his own blood, and she’d thought that would be the end.

But then she sees her mother-- younger than her, barely age eleven-- walk in, and speak, it’s muffled and fuzzy, and she couldn’t make out what she was saying, but one word came clear as the brunette leaves; and this word shakes the auburn-haired girl to her core.

‘ **Father** ‘.

Nova swallowed thickly.

The very same man who killed those children-- the same man in that rabbit-- was her grandfather.

She had never snapped awake from a dream so fast.

\---

“No.” Was the immediate answer that came from her uncle, the two sat at the table, Michael looking irritated and worried whilst Nova stayed firm.

“I have to.” She stated, “I _have_ to finish what I started.” She insists, placing her hands on the wooden surface, “Sammy knows that, everyone does-- why are you objecting, uncle?!” She pressed, eyebrows furrowing as she pushes herself off of her seat, “I don’t get it! You’re not my dad! I’m not _five_! Why not?!”

“Because now that he’s realised you’re one of _us_ , he won’t stop at anything to try and finish you off!” He stated, slamming his fist against the table as he glared at her, “Nova Amelie, you are **NOT** going to that building, you _will_ get hurt-- you will most likely **_DIE_**.” He hissed, and the teen’s hands clenched into fists.

“I don’t _get_ you, uncle.” She whispered then, eyes becoming half-lidded as she stared at him, “I’m not some weak toddler. I’m more than capable.”

“Tell that to the wound you got a few nights back.” He fired then, and Nova flinched a little, there’s silence in the room, before Michael sighed, “I’m… sorry to have said that, but this is something we cannot risk your life with-- your mother had done so, and you have done so, and I am _not_ losing you.” He spoke, “Death is not an easy thing to come back from, Nova. Take it from me.” He looked away then, “Besides… you need to _rest_. The weight of those kids being freed is off of your shoulders… so let the adults handle this now.” He finished, still looking away-- Nova opened her mouth, but then she closed it.

He won’t listen. She screwed her eyes shut, trying to force back the well of tears that were trying to emerge, before she shakes her head and leaves for her bedroom, dashing up the stairs and flinging herself into her bed; she hated it. She hated it so much.

She _hated_ being underestimated.

She pushes herself up with her elbows, rubbing her eyes before her phone pings, Nova glances over, and reaches to take it, turning it on to read the message.

‘ [ 🤡 ]: _i got the detonator done!!! we are gonna blow that building to kingdom come!! 💥💥💥_ ‘

Selena, Nova gave a small smile, leaning her head into her pillow as she opened up the app to respond.

‘ [ Cometbrought ]: _alright! thanks sel, we’re ending this once and for all._ ‘

She sighed, closing her eyes then.

Nova is going to make sure that building is nothing but _**ashes**_ once she’s done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUCK OKAY I SPEED-TYPED THIS FORGIVE ANY MISTAKES BUT I WAS THINKING ABT THIS CHAPTER AND I NEEDED TO WRITE
> 
> regardless, this was seven pages long and i hope you've enjoyed this chapter! i wanted the party to be at least a little sentimental ( i was inspired by directdoggo's dsaf, which is a gift and i reccommend you play it ), and so we got this! we also have some ~~FAMILY DRAMA~~ so yeah....... rebellious teen moment, shit's gonna go down in the arc finale
> 
> thanks for reading!


	30. Time Bomb.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It burns.

She thumbs the ignition on the lighter as she held the gasoline canister in her free hand, eyebrows furrowed as she stood in the office, thinking about what she needed to do-- Michael was going to kill her after this, but it’ll be so worth it. Her eyes flick down to the can, and Nova clicked her tongue, pocketing the lighter and grabbing the device Selena made for her, beginning to walk.

Nova tilts the canister down; gasoline spilling in a trail behind her whilst she made a round of the Fright-- she would hate to admit it, but she would miss this place; it had been surprisingly fun whilst it lasted-- without the rabbit after her, anyways. She wanders around until the canister stops spilling, and she held it up, shaking it to see if it was truly empty before hiding it behind a couple of present boxes, her gaze turns to the device then, before she picked it up and ran for the arcade room, opening a machine’s door to peek in-- she now realised why Sammy said to lure him into the room last night.

The insides of the machine were busted, and there was a space where she could fit the device in; and so she did, attaching wires and clips to it before bringing out her lighter, sighing a bit as she ignites it-- she raises a little flap on the device, setting the candle alight inside-- and watched the little machine’s interface light up with a counter-- she had until six.

The teenager clicked her tongue, shoulders relaxing, lucky for her-- she seems pretty good at lasting until then. She wiped her face with her sleeve for a moment, and shut the arcade machine, turning off her lighter and heading for the office, a smile coming to her face as she heard the clock strike twelve.

Final stand; she was ready. She stepped near the cameras, sealing off the nearest vent and setting down the audio lure on the first camera; her eyes glanced to the axe on her chair, and she took a moment to breathe. Closing her eyes as she did so, of course-- she couldn’t risk seeing the phantoms wander the Fright and bug out her systems-- that would probably end up in her death, and that tiny spark of spite in her system refuses to yield to such an end.

She cracks open an eye to see that Springtrap has moved, and she hits the audio, cursing a little when the system message pops up that the audio was down. She pushes the tablet away, walking for the maintenance panel and resetting the audio, her fingers tap incessantly against the table as she tried to ignore the growing number of phantoms coming into the vicinity-- maybe if she ignored them, they’d go away, right? ...Right?

The audio resets, and the girl dashes back to the cameras to check the rabbit’s location, cringing when she sees him moving into a vent, the vent she had sealed, luckily; and so she scrolls through the cameras once again ( she sees a mangled fox in the hall, and then she hears screaming ), she scrolled back to the camera where he was emerging from the sealed vent; and she makes a rookie mistake.

Next thing she knew, there was a boy screaming in her face, she ducked back, heaving a little as she looked around ( they were everywhere, she needed to do something ), her hands moved faster than her brain, grabbing the axe and hitting the reset all button-- she needed to move, and she needed to move now-- before she died.

She runs from the office, an arm covering her nose and mouth as she moved-- taking small breaths as to not waste any oxygen, she kept running, at least until she had circled around the hallway and stopped, leaning against the wall and heaving, she closed her eyes then, trying to think of the time; was it 3:45? Or 4:45? She wasn’t sure; she might not last this night.

Nova shook her head, taking a moment to collect herself; she’ll be fine, she’ll be okay. She won’t die here-- her eyes focus and she then looks around, before walking towards the arcade room, looking towards the other end of the hall; where the machine that held the device was.

The teenager could only hope it’d just start a fire. If it exploded-- well, if it did, she was praying for a small explosion, but she knew how much Selena loved to make things go boom. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve, closing her eyes a little-- her head was starting to hurt, and she needed a moment.

But that moment was ruined when she heard someone enter the corridor-- Nova looked up, eyes widening when she saw the golden-green rabbit at the other end of the hallway; and her grip on the axe tightened-- oh, _Jesus_ , he’s here. It was a standoff; and Nova hated the tension that the rabbit was exerting.

It was… bad, worse than the other nights-- so bad that her nose had actually started to leak blood-- and she didn’t know what to do, but they were staring, and Nova didn’t want to yield; but then he spoke, and her shoulders tensed.

**“I would have thought you’d have died early on.”** He mused, **“But I suppose I’ll applaud your tenacity-- your mother was the same.”** Nova cringed, expression shifting to one of stone, but he continued, **“You’re more capable than I’d have imagined, really-- you’re an Afton through and through.”**

The teenager visibly rolled her eyes, counting in her head-- it should be 5 by now, if she could keep him in place for one more hour… her hands grip the axe then, and the rabbit gives it a glance, to which he gave a chuckle, one of nostalgic amusement.

**“She kept it. How sentimental.”** He stated, **“I would have never thought that it’d be used on me.”** This caused Nova to glance down at her axe, hands shaking a little as she tried to steady herself-- now that she thought about it, it did look strikingly familiar to the axe from the dream sequences.

**“We’re more alike than I thought.”** That’s it. She didn’t know what had happened, but she moved-- and she struck him with the weapon, lodged right above the robot’s elbow, it was quite deep-- not that she cared.

“You _bastard_.” She found it in herself to speak, “I’m _never_ going to be like you-- because I’ve already undone what you did to those kids.” She continued, wrenching the axe out of the robot and stumbling back a little, “I’m not some do-over, _I am me_. And I will _always_ be me.”

**“Such bold words.”** He chided, his good hand raising to grip her shoulder, **“But you’re still too small.”** And with the flick of his wrist does he send Nova into the wall; her head collided with the surface and the dull pressure in her head began to amplify, she cursed, eyes screwing shut as she tried to get up.

But from her hands was the axe wrenched-- and the rabbit loomed over her, Nova wheezed, winded from the toss, and she goes to pull herself up, her mouth opening to bite back and quip something awful-- but she didn’t get the chance as she starts sputtering blood, it takes her a moment to register the pain going down her chest ( beginning at the collarbone, ending at her lower ribcage’s side ), a hand raises to catch the blood that escaped, and she heaved, though shock refuses to set in, and blue eyes stare up at the rabbit. One hand holding the axe, and in the other, a form of pinkish liquid, and Nova glanced to see her own wound covered in that same pink substance.

**“A shame, though.”** He hummed, **“I would have loved to have taught you as my own.”**

Three. He raises the axe, Nova’s eyesight fizzles for a moment, but she can clearly see the arcade machine beginning to rattle.

Two. She hears footsteps, rushing frantically, a part of her prays that whoever was coming wasn’t going to get injured, and so she opened her mouth;

“O-- one. _Happy Halloween, motherfucker._ ” She manages against the blood and the struggle for breath. It was loud; so loud that she hears a ringing in her ears instead, and she sees the rabbit get flung, and fire starting to spread. Between the orange flames and green walls did she feel someone grip her shoulders, and she focuses on who it was-- _Allen_ , eyes wide with what seems like concern and terror ( at her condition, she thinks )-- and she heaved, forcing a grin.

He picked her up; and he practically starts running, Nova starts to hear again, and vaguely… she hears the mad cackling of the springlocked killer fade into the flames, she can only lean on her friend as he ran, ran out of the Fright and into the cold air of the morning; compared to the heat of the Fright, it was a refreshing change.

... _God_ , she was so tired. She’s sure Allen wouldn’t mind it if she fell asleep, right? She just… needed it.

It all went dark.

\---

[ IT BURNS. FAZBEAR’S FRIGHT BURNS TO THE GROUND. ] Sammy types off, looking up from the newspaper to the other two adults, Norah bit her nails quietly, eyes on the floor as she sat there, Michael remained silent, pulling his sweater collar a little as he looked away, there was tension in the room, but it was not hostile. Norah let out a small sigh then, closing her eyes.

“I think we’re all wondering the same question.” She spoke, “How did she _survive_ that? An axe to the chest… that should kill any _normal_ person.” She murmured, eyes glancing to the side then, “I-- I just… I’m so happy she’s _alive_ , but…”

“It’s probably the same as how _I’m_ here.” Michael stated, “Just a bit different in her case; she… only sustained the injury for a few hours, mine was two weeks, meaning the substance had that effect-- but only for a while.” He ran a hand through his hair then, “...Remnant, who knew it could do something good, for once?”

Sammy and Norah exchanged a glance, and then they heard a groan; all eyes went to the bed as the person occupying it shifted; and let out a hiss. Norah shot up from her seat, zipping over to look at her daughter whilst Sammy and Michael stayed put, but they were both very relieved.

Nova blinked hard, looking up to her mother as she gave a weak, lopsided grin, “Hi, ma.” She greeted, and Norah let out a shaky sigh, placing her forehead against the auburn teen’s.

“You are _so_ grounded.” She muttered, “But I am so, _SO_ glad you’re okay, darling.”

“Fair enough.” Nova managed, smiling still, Michael leaned his head back a little, staring at the ceiling-- Nova could only feel the smugness radiating from him.

“What did I tell you?” He stated, “You’ve been in and out of consciousness for three days, it’s November 3rd, dipshit.” The look on the teen’s face changed to one of shock, and a little bit of offence at the insult, and the man chuckled, shaking his head, “You’re in a lotta trouble, missy, but… for now, we’re just glad you’re alive.”

[ YOU DEALT A LOT OF DAMAGE TO AFTON. ] Sammy piped up, [ BUT I DON’T KNOW IF HE SURVIVED. IF HE DID-- WE’LL FIND OUT. ] He informed then, the three verbal people looked between each other, and then Nova nodded.

“At least… the kids’re free.” She murmured, leaning back on the pillows with a smile.

That was all she could ask for, really… they could all rest easy now.

They deserved it.

\---

“Was that really _true_ , mama?!” The little one yelled as she closed her journal, Nova smiled, raising an eyebrow, the boy got up from the floor, pudgy hands raising to grab her knee, “Did you _really_ fight off the big, bad man?!”

She raises a hand, ruffling his hair, “I sure did, little man.” She replied, laughing a bit, “Your papa helped, too! To think all of that happened eight years ago…” She looked at her son’s eyes, bright blue-- just like Allen’s, the five year old gave a toothy grin, looking up at her.

“I wanna be _jus_ ’ like you, papa, and nana-- and uncle Mikey when I grow up!!” He stated firmly, one of his hands releasing her knee to start flapping-- the woman ruffled her boy’s hair with a fond smile. She was so lucky; she truly was, to be here.

“Alright, alright..” She goes to stand, placing the journal down on the chair and picking up her son, “Let’s get you to bed, darling. You have a big day with nana with you tomorrow!” She pinched the boy’s cheek gently, and the little boy started to flail, hands flapping and knees kicking in his excitement, Nova sighed, smiling as she headed off to tuck her son in.

In the hallway, as she passed, did a young ghost watch with a brown dead-eyed stare, hands clenched into fists as blood obscured some of his vision. He had a mission-- and he wanted to make his old man proud.

And so he’ll start with the _son_ , to keep tradition.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so the end of the fright arc is here! this might seem a little all over the place but i really wanted to get this done so!! basically william yeeted some of his own remnant at this idiot because Hm. Maybe It Will Mess Her Up In The Future. but eventually the remnant passed onto something else, and we will begin the next arc in the next chapter- with a young boy as the lead.
> 
> thanks for reading! again, all questions can be answered either in the comments or at prizecornerz on tumblr!


	31. July 12th, 2031.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something's wrong, and Atlas doesn't like it.

Sometimes dreams can turn dangerous, Atlas had learned-- his mother often told him that their dreams could always mean something, after all, it was something mediums usually did-- but as the son of a medium and a Flipside dreamer, Atlas had a lot more power than them both; or so he was told.

He often just wanted to play games with his friends-- he was a five year old, after all, the group baby compared to the rest-- he was just a small boy who wanted to have fun! He didn’t want anything else-- the life of a five year old is _really_ easy.

But it didn’t explain why he went to sleep, and woke up somewhere different; typically, papa said when he entered the Flipside, it was blue skies and grassy fields, and when mama has a dream, it’s pixel-y and a prominent colour was black; so why was _he_ , little five year old Atlas, in an _entirely_ different bedroom by himself? He didn’t recognise where he was at all…

Blue eyes get a little watery, and his hands feel through the navy blue carpet to try and make him calm down-- it was scary, **too** scary, because he knew this was a dream-- but what did this dream mean?  His hand hits something nearby, and he glances towards the object he bumped into, a pale blue flashlight, something that could be wound and used immediately. He swallowed a lump down his throat and pulled himself up, holding the light close as he looked around.

Two doors, a closet, and a bed; it looked like a room for someone who was a little older than him. He winds the flashlight a little, and then perked up at the sound of shuffling, eyes widening as he stepped closer to the left door, he grabbed the doorknob, twisting it and opening the door to peek down the hall, seeing pitch black darkness; and so he shines his light… to see nothing.

He wasn’t sure what was going on. He doesn’t think he wants to know what’s going on-- because there was a strange tension in the air and it made him feel sick. He looked at the flashlight again, before looking back up towards the hall. He flashes the light once more for good measure before walking back to the center of the room, winding it.

He pauses when he hears it, the sounds of muffled shrieking, and he looks around to try and find the noise; before flinching at the source on the bed; two tiny bears, screaming bloody hell as they seem to vibrate frantically, Atlas shines his light-- and watches them disperse almost immediately-- his hands were a little shaky, but he _did_ get a close look.

They certainly didn’t look **friendly**. Sharp teeth and razor claws ready to dig in at any given moment; it was something Atlas knew was dangerous-- he wasn’t sure from where, when or how he knew-- but it was. His hand raises to ruffle through blondish-brown hair as he screws his eyes shut once more.

Why was he here? It was an annoying question, one that Atlas didn’t have the information to answer; not like he could obtain it himself, he was five! He was far too little to try and do that-- but he wasn’t small enough to do the one thing that’s instinct to all humans.

_Survive_.

He moved to the right door, peeking down the hallway to try and discern what could be there-- he might not see well in the darkness, but the darkness can be used akin to blindness, he once learned from his great-uncle-- he can hear. He listens, hand gripping the flashlight as he did, he hears nothing; and thus flashes the light for good measure… which confirms his idea.

He shuffled back from the door, looking around again; his eyes fell to the closet, and for a moment does he squint ( he recalls that when he was angry, he looked a lot like his mom-- for she was the same ), he watched it for a moment, before he turned towards the bed, flashing one little bear from the covers before wandering back to the left hall; he listens, eyebrows furrowing as the little boy seemed to frown.

He hears nothing, and he glances towards the alarm clock; 4:30-- he thinks it is-- he rubbed one of his eyes with his free hand, blinking hard to stay awake for as long as he could, this might be a dream, but it’s certainly taking all of his energy… he’d probably have to figure out a work-around if he had to do this again ( and he hoped he didn’t have to ).

Atlas pats down his pyjama trousers, eyebrows furrowed as he then looks towards the center of the room; free hand clenched then as he flashed the light towards the general directions of each location ( the closet has not made a sound-- is it safe, he wondered? ). It was something that itched at him, really; wondering just what is going on, and who’s behind it.

...Or… _what_ , is behind it.

He patted his face ( mirroring his mother in that notion ), eyebrows furrowing as he shakes his head, _focus, Atlas_! The boy toddles around the room in an almost methodical fashion; creating a pattern he could deal with ( he was so much better with a pattern; doing things willy-nilly stresses him ). It was something he knew at a very young age; whenever his mother or father set him a little task, he’d always do it the same way-- with his own steps and own thinking.

His eyes focus on the time as he keeps his pattern up; he had gotten a few glimpses or two at the monsters in the hall; and he had taken notice of the tattered, scary appearance of the abominations of the house-- a house that he doesn’t recognise. Whose house was this, he wondered?

Atlas didn’t have the time to think now, the clock struck six, and he closed his eyes for a split second-- only to open them to appear in a hallway with doors. He squinted in the darkness-- taking note of the little figure in the chair at the end of it. He looked around for anything nearby, and his eyes fell to a little note on the floor-- pudgy hands picked it up, and his eyebrows furrowed when he tried to read.

“F… fun with… Pl… Plus-- Plush-trap?” He mumbled, running a thumb across carefully-written letters before he looked back up to the rabbit on the chair, his head dipped back to read the note before he notices the large X on the floor-- and something clicks.

_He’s a fingertrap, he says!_

He blinked hard, looking between the rabbit and the X, before holding up his flashlight, “...X marks the spot.” He murmured then, turning it on to see more clearly-- he had moved. Sat on the floor near the chair, Atlas switches the flashlight off, standing there and waiting quietly.

Atlas could hear it; shuffling in the darkness to come closer and closer-- but to do what, he wondered-- he stands, blue eyes half-lidded as he stood near the X, he hears it move more, and he turns on the light, watching it zip back into the hallway to his left; _drat_ , almost got him.

He waits, thumb resting against the switch for the flashlight as he tries to listen, he hears it, coming closer, and closer…

Atlas switches on the light to find him slumping onto the X, the tot grinned, looking quite pleased with himself as he placed his hands on his hips-- he closed his eyes, giggling mercilessly.

Though when he opened them, he found himself tucked into bed with the clock at 6:30 AM.

\---

“ _Damn it_ ,” he curses, pressing his thumb to his teeth as he chews on his nail; the brunette paces around the room, he looks thoroughly irritated, “did I go too easy on him? It’s not a fair fight if I just send them all immediately.” He uttered then, his head turning to the other in the room, “What do you think? Should I have gone a bit more difficult?”

“You might have underestimated him a little, yes.” An older voice spoke, “Considering his mother and her connection to us, I wouldn’t be surprised if that young boy had tricks up his sleeve-- most Aftons _do_ , by blood.” The older man chuckled, a hand raising to cover his mouth, “You’ve settled for _quite_ the little nightmare, dear boy; perhaps it might be _he_ who beats _you_.”

“Fuck off.” The brunette boy muttered, “You might be the one with the plan, but I’m the one doing your goddamn dirty work, motherfucker… you’re lucky I’m angry enough to even agree to this.” He grumbled, pacing still, “I’ll make it more difficult tomorrow night, then… I’ll show.”

“Good, good..” The older man replied, almost deceptively warm, “He’s an important part for me, of course-- try not to physically _maim_ him, won’t you?”

“Ugh, not like I could-- most injuries are mental, dipshit.” The boy shot back, going back to chew his thumbnail.

_Tomorrow night_ , he thinks, _things will not go so smoothly for you, Fisher_.

\---

“Are you sure you want me to move the boxes?” Nova called, looking over to the other as she set the box she was already holding on the party table, “Silly old man.” She teased then, smiling as she dodged a party hat being lobbed her way.

“Ruuuude!” The older man at the other table chimed, leaning back and draping a hand over his head dramatically, “I’m your uncle, missy-- I have frail, old man bones.” He exclaimed jokingly, giving a grin to his niece as the woman could only laugh at him, shaking her head almost exasperatedly.

“You don’t even have bones.” She pointed out, grinning, “You’re like… a limp noodle. Do you think if you took off the disc, then you’d just crumple to the floor?” She asked, earning a mock gasp from Michael as he put a hand to his chest-- the tone of jest clear between the two.

“Just wait until your mother hears about this.” He joked then, smiling before the woman shakes her head, “Then again, she’s probably in the backroom, setting up the Rockstars for next week.” He added then, “She’s put a lot of effort into those-- gotta admit, they’re a real piece of work.” He hummed, looking to the Minireena in front of him, completing a puzzle.

The sound of the front door opening caught their attention, and Michael could only watch as a little blur of blue dashed over to his mother, practically jumping into her arms with a cheer whilst his nephew-in-law wandered towards him, the two gave a nod, and looked back to the toddler and his mother.

“Mama, mama--!” Atlas exclaimed, flapping his arms almost wildly as he squirmed a bit to get comfy in her grip, “Is it true?! Is it? Are you, nana and unca’ Mikey really opening a Freddy’s soon?!” He fired off, eyes wide as Nova could only laugh, ruffling his hair.

“Woah, spitfire, focus-- calm.” She spoke, and the boy beamed, hands raising to grab her shoulders gently, “Yeah, me, nana and uncle Mike’re opening a Freddy’s, you’ll be there on the opening day, right?” She asked then, her hand running through his hair, “I know that nana has a big surprise for you when we do! She’s been working hard on it.” She added, placing a small kiss on the boy’s forehead.

Atlas nodded eagerly, the smile on his face never leaving, “Mmhm!! I’m gonna be there-- papa said he’s gonna take me ‘cause I never had a chance t’ see a Freddy’s! Nana and unca’ said really good things about it-- and, and the robots! I wanna know ‘bout the robots--” He rambled, watching his mother nod as she listened to him, “I can’t wait..!”

The woman laughed, placing her forehead to her son’s, “Atti, it’ll only be a week, it’ll fly by, honest!” She promised, chuckling at his eagerness, “Tell me about your day, in the meantime, okay?”

Atlas nodded, opening his mouth to begin rambling about what he and Allen did that day.

His mind, however, still focused on what transpired last night-- and deep down, Atlas refuses to speak of it.

He didn’t want them to worry about him, anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so we start the nightmare arc; with little atlas fisher as our poor protagonist ;v; i'm so sorry sweetie you're gonna go through a lot
> 
> regardless! we have twists and turns and some parts of this chapter is left intentionally vague ( foreshadowing ;D ), but i do hope you'll enjoy what i got in store for you!
> 
> thanks for reading!! <3


	32. Closet Troubles.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's something inside.

It was still so quiet when he woke up there again; eerie, unchanging and strange. It wasn’t settling well with Atlas, no-- not at all. He wasn’t sure what to do about it, either. It… it was something that he wasn’t sure about in the slightest.

Regardless of the disposition of the house; Atlas knew that he had to survive another round with the hellish beings within the darkness; his eyes flick to the clock, and his eyes went wide-- 2 AM. _Why_ was it 2 AM? They usually start at 12… his hand goes to his mouth as he seems to think about this a little, maybe this was a reward? Because he survived? Maybe, maybe not-- he keeps thinking, nonetheless.

“...Plushtrap.” He murmured then, looking around with a raised eyebrow. Maybe _that’s_ why he’s at 2 AM, the hand with the flashlight raises to flash at the bed, dispelling two little creatures away as he listens for the shuffling outside of the room. He idles for a moment, before wandering near the door to his left, peeking out into the hallway and flashing his light.

He almost has to do a double-take because of what he sees. A huge, hulking blueish-purple form riddled with tears and wires sticking out, but that wasn’t the main thing he noticed, no… it was the _teeth_. The teeth and claws on the monstrous rabbit at the end of the corridor were sharp enough to catch his eye, Atlas blinked once-- and he was gone-- he shut the door tightly before backing away, his flashlight shining to the bed as he turns his focus to the other door, his eyebrows furrow as he removes one little gremlin from the bed, and the child moved around the bedroom, small hand gripping the door and moving it as he peeked into the right hall-- his flashlight shining.

He cringes when he sees it, a chicken, in the same condition as the rabbit-- the main difference was that she was yellow, and holding a cupcake-- Atlas seemed to be thinking more, and ideas were popping up in his head as the nightmare ducks around the corner, he shifted from the door, head turning to the bed as he flashed his light; two little bears, he wandered over, watching them scuttle under the bed one by one-- his hand raises, and reaches out to pat the last bear’s head before it went.

Atlas wondered if anyone would have thought him weird for that; the hopes of a child were ones that were on cloud nine-- unrealistic, but deep down, Atlas wondered-- would it ever be possible to maybe pacify and befriend them? He barely got glimpses of what they looked like; there might be more, too.

The shuffle in his closet confirmed that much as he twisted his head to look to it-- he barely catches it closing, and the boy gave a little gasp as he tottered over to look at it, opening the closet door and shining the light-- and flinching away at the scream from the monster inside.

“B _\--_ bad fox.” He uttered then, slamming the doors shut, “Don’t be mean!” He huffed, cheeks puffing out despite his teary eyes. He sighed, listening closely for any surrounding noise whilst he held the closet closed ( good hearing… a thing he received from his father ), pudgy little hands then opened the white doors, and he flashes his light to see the fox’s feet, shutting them tightly again as he sighed.

He counts, five seconds pass and he opens it again to check-- seeing a plush, ah, **good** \-- he was gone. He retreats from the closet as he shoos away the little bears on the bed before checking the left hall again-- freezing when he hears breathing.

What should he do? He didn’t want to flash the light, he didn’t want to check and see if he’s face-to-face with the rabbit, so Atlas slammed the door shut and kept it like that, closing his eyes as he tries to steady his breathing, it’ll be alright, it’s gonna be a-okay! He’s sure of it!

He hears footsteps, and he dashes from the door to check the bed; only one bear, who quickly goes away, before checking the other door, flashing the light down the hall and gasping when he sees the chicken mid-way through-- but this meant that he still had time before she was at the door, too; and he wondered if she worked the same as the fox and the rabbit.

He stumbles back, taking a moment to breathe as he looked to the closet-- eyebrows furrowing as he stood there, he doesn’t move from the middle of the room, winding the flashlight as fast as he could. Blue eyes wander between the doors of the closet and the bed, he doesn’t hear screaming, not yet-- so the bed was safe, only one place to go.

Atlas heads for the closet, opening it and flashing the light to see the fox’s endoskeletal feet on the floor; he wasn’t in his third position, which means he could probably enter that at any moment-- it was something Atlas could not risk. He closes the doors, closing his eyes and counting to five before checking once more-- and with that, he was a plush, he seemed to stare at it for a moment before he reaches down and strokes one of its ears.

“...Fluffy.” He observed quietly, before stepping away from the closet, and stepped over towards the right door, opening it and listening. He stands there, staring up into the darkness as he focuses on the breathing, and he then closes the door; heaving out a sigh as he looked around the room from where he stood.

He wondered what time it was, it felt like time was certainly dragging on-- not like Atlas minded, of course, it just meant that things will take longer. Time certainly doesn’t fly when you’re not having fun, that’s for sure, not like he’d ever have fun in this situation.

His free hand raises to run through his hair as he focused on the bed once more; staring at the three little bears shivering and screaming, he flashes the light at them, watching them disperse with a little tired sigh. He hears the clock ticking, and before he could even look up-- it strikes six-- Atlas grinned.

Of course… he wasn’t done yet. He closed his eyes and opened them to see the hall once more; Plushtrap, his hand fiddles with the flashlight, winding it as he begins counting, waiting for the toy to move closer, and closer-- Atlas couldn’t help but wonder, in the meantime, just what this toy was-- it was definitely not like anything he had seen before, obviously.

He listened, still as a board as he finished winding his flashlight, closer… closer… and he shines, watching the rabbit slump right in front of the X, and the boy breaks out in a nervous sweat, there’s a high chance he could mess this up, and what would happen then? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but he had to be brave.

_You’re my brave lil guy, Atti!_

He took a moment to breathe, before switching the light off, he counts, one, two, three-- and he flicks it on as Plushtrap slumps just onto the X in front of him, but he won-- he won. And he was so glad he did. He draws his flashlight closer to himself as he closed his eyes.

He wakes up in his bed once more, and he sits himself up-- head turning towards his bedside table as he then gave a little smile.

He wondered when the Foxy plush got there.

\---

“He really is his mother’s little boy.” The younger male state, pacing again as he dragged his hands down his face, “But I’ve never seen anyone be… friendly, towards the nightmares in all my years of being dead.”

“How grossly empathetic.” The older male spoke, “He probably got it from _Norah_ if anything. Only she would be that way to such… horrendous monsters.” A hum escapes him as he looked to the side, “Do you think he’ll be as nice if you have to bust out the big guns?”

“Something tells me that he’s gonna get his hands dirty with trying to dispel the demons once he straightens himself out.” The younger one replied, looking over to the other, “...How is it going on your end?” He inquired then, “You never speak about what you’re doing.”

“Me? Well,” the older one starts, “I’ve successfully trapped two of the people I need into their vessels fully, I’ve quelled another one in the meantime-- he was quite mouthy, more than he was when he died-- are you _sure_ you were best friends with that kid?” A rhetorical question, of course, he chuckles when the younger one glares at him, “I just need to hunt down parts and another robot before I can begin closing in.”

“That so?” The younger male replied, eyebrow raising, “I see… I guess you’re planning to do the same as you used to do?”

“Of course, dear boy-- and what of you? What do you plan to do next?” He asked, tilting his head as the pre-teen tightens the fabric around his head.

“I plan to greet our little flashlight fighter tomorrow night.” He stated simply, “Just to see how he is up close and personal.”

And frankly, he couldn’t wait for it.

\---

“What’s that you got there, little man?” He hears his father asking, and Atlas looks up, looking over to the brunette-blonde man as he straightens a few files, Atlas clutched the Foxy plush in his arms, leaning on it a little.

“I found this in m’room, papa.” He informed then, smiling, “I was thinkin’ about adding it with my Mari doll, maybe I can start a Freddy’s collection.” He chirped, a laugh escaping him, Allen turns his seat to look at his son fully, a curious expression on his face.

“Really, sunshine?” He asked, and the five-year-old nodded, getting up and tottering over-- his hand grasps the denim fabric of his father’s trousers, and Atlas craned his neck up to look at him, smiling.

“I wanna know eve-ry-thing about Freddy’s!” He exclaimed, drawling out one of the words as he beamed, “I wanna know the good stuff when I’m little, and when I’m older, I wanna learn some’a the bad stuff, since you, mama, nana and unca’ say that Freddy’s is a bad place sometimes-- and, and mama’s making a Freddy’s restaurant to try and leave the franchise on a good note, or something, right?”

The man blinked, looking down at the boy before he chuckled, picking him up and placing him on his lap, “When did you get so wise, little man?” He spoke softly, ruffling his son’s hair as he pulled him into a hug, “Your mother and I agreed to tell you all about it when you’re older… but I know you’ll make this franchise a better place in the future; it’s hurt a lot of people, Atlas.”

“Like..?” He asked, pulling the Foxy plush to his chest as he listened to his father’s heartbeat.

“Many people, Atti… but you’re too young to know, which is why we’re gonna tell you when you’re older.” He pulls the boy away, holding him at arm’s length, “I should tell you, though… when you’re older, nana and uncle Michael might not be around to give you full details, so… your mother and I-- we’ll do everything we can to tell you what we know, okay?”

Atlas nodded, burying his face back in his father’s chest, “Okay.” He spoke, “I’mma hold you to it, papa.” Allen rubbed his son’s back as he gave a little hum, closing his eyes.

“You’re our hope for the future, kiddo.” He spoke then, “You’re _their_ hope.”

Atlas’ eyes fall to the documents his father was sorting through as he spoke; and the one on top was something that made his eyebrow raise.

_‘Sightings of local cryptids recorded; anthropomorphic bunny and bear?’_

...How odd. He ignores it, for now, turning his attention to his father to ask him for something-- a smile coming to his face as he begins to ramble.

He had other issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit at the time i'm posting this, this story has 975 hits. why are there so many of you reading/re-reading omg.... thank you sdhfdghfg
> 
> regardless tho!! you're allowed to asks questions and take bets on what's happening; i MAY hold a qna for the 2031 squad over on prizecornerz soon enough if people are interested, too!!
> 
> with that said, thanks for reading!


	33. Dead Eye.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secret Friends are great.

Deep breaths, deep breaths-- in for four, hold for seven, out for eight-- something his dad taught him, he sits on the carpeted floor, eyes closed as he seemed to listen; strange noises and shuffling in the distance, muffled screaming from one of the little bears… it was the usual, so he gets up, flashing the light at the bed to disperse the bite-sized ankle-biters on top of it, he heads for the left door first, placing his ear against the door as he seemed to listen… and hears nothing, good. It meant that the door was free. 

He peeked into the hall, watching quietly before flashing his light-- he sees the rabbit duck away from the light-- and he huffed, cheeks puffing out a little as he did. He wondered if they were light-sensitive, at least from a distance, of course; it was like staring directly at a light source… it hurt, not like anyone knows he did that a few times. Atlas heads away from the door and runs for the other one-- peeking out into the darkened hallway with a frown.

Atlas switches on the light, watching the chicken repeat the same notion as the rabbit. Blue eyes narrow as he backed away then, and looked back to the bed, eyebrows furrowed as he flashed the light over it, shooing away the strange little bears once more.

Something felt weirdly different tonight, he couldn’t put his finger on it, of course-- he didn’t have any ideas on what could be weird around this already-curious dream. He wracks his brain as he moved around the room, checking the doors, then the bed, then the closet-- but nothing comes to mind no matter how hard he thinks. And it was infuriating because he couldn’t rationalise it in the slightest, nothing came to mind, and nothing could explain his situation.

“Best I can do is survive.” He mumbled thoughtfully to himself as he shuts the door on the fox’s face, it was all he could do for now, after all. Not like he could afford getting beaten by these beasts-- not yet, no. Atlas still had a lot to do, and he was still so young… so he couldn’t lose now. His eyes fall to the floor as he turned his head from the closed closet, and he noticed something on the floor.

He checked to see if the nightmare was gone, before nodding to himself and walking over to the object, hands going to pick it up so he could read a little more closely.

‘ Missing Children’s incident, 1987 ‘ was written on the headlines; a newspaper, Atlas raised an eyebrow at it, before noticing red handwriting towards a space on the old surface, in all caps does he read something that confused him further.

‘ Do you remember the screams? ‘ No. No, he didn’t. Atlas had genuinely _no clue_ what the heck that meant, so he just shoved it under the bed for the bears to eat as he checked the left door for the rabbit; hearing breathing and closing the door once again as he sighed, head turning to the room before him. He stands there, hand on the doorknob whilst he thumbed the button on his flashlight silently, listening to the sounds of the little bears under the bed practically tearing the paper into shreds.

He lets the door go as he moved towards the closet, checking on the fox within and closing the doors for good measure, closing his eyes to try and hear clearer. It was something he needed to do-- vital for his survival, of course.

He didn’t expect to hear something squelching towards him at high speeds, and Atlas ducks away as the weird little creature knocks into the closet, Atlas falls backwards, landing on the carpet with a huff, he squints at the perpetrator, and the look of utter confusion crosses his face when he realises that it’s a cupcake.

Then he realised that it was the chicken’s cupcake. He shoots up, and zipped towards the bed as the little monster follows him, Atlas heaved and yelped as he trips over his own feet, sitting up and watching the cupcake draw closer, its teeth opening to take a bite--

\--before a foot kicks it right out of the door, Atlas blinked hard, small bouts of tears escaping him as he looked up to who did that, he straightens his back as he did, blue eyes widening at the person before him.

A boy, with chocolate brown hair and an eye of the same colour-- Atlas could not tell with the other, as a bandage had been wrapped around his head in such a way that it covered the boy’s right eye, a grey and black long-sleeved sweater with the sleeves rolled up, with blue denim shorts and brown shoes with white loose socks that reach to his knees, he was taller, and older than the five-year-old, staring down with a deadpanned stare as he held his own flashlight in his grip.

He was… intimidating, _scary_ , and Atlas wondered if it was just an outward appearance, the brunette reaches a hand out for him to take, and Atlas gripped his hand, allowing himself to be pulled up, the older boy pinches the bridge of his nose, before looking down to him.

“You should pay more attention.” He informed him, a tone that was cold and piercing, “If you stop for just a moment, you could get caught.” His eye then went to the closet, Atlas followed his gaze, and then moved back to the closet, closing the door without looking into it, he glanced back to the older boy, who flashed his light to the bed to get rid of the creatures, “Bloody Freddles… wonder what they scream about--”

“They’re called Freddles?” Atlas inquired, catching the boy’s attention as he looked to him, the little one beamed when he got a nod in response, “Cute! Do the others have names?” He pressed, and the boy looked at him weirdly, before sighing and shaking his head.

“I don’t see _how_ they’re cute, kid, I’ve been dealing with these since… forever, I guess-- they have names, yes.” He informed, switching off the flashlight, “You might know of their less-scary versions, there’s Freddy, Bonnie, Chica and Foxy.” He started, “You know how they work, at least-- the basis of it, Bonnie and Chica attack from the hallways, but Foxy-- well, he’ll use the hallways to get into your room and hide in your closet.” As the boy spoke, Atlas wandered from the closet to the right door, holding it shut to make sure Chica left.

“The Freddles,” he continued, “are part of Freddy, as long as you don’t let more than three on the bed, then you’re good-- otherwise, he’ll appear.” He made his way to the left door, looking into the darkness and listening, before flashing the light a few times, “Flashing the lights in the hallway bots’ eyes tend to stun them a little bit.”

“Huh… cool.” Atlas replied thoughtfully, “You’ve… fought against them, before? How long?” He questioned then, the boy paused looking over to him as he seemed to think, before flashing the bed and ridding it of one Freddle.

“I forgot how long.” He admitted, “I’ve been up against these since I was seven.” He added then, “They tend to prefer younger victims to terrorise.” Atlas frowned then, maybe _that_ was why he was on the chopping block with these guys, he looked over to him as he headed back to the closet, checking for Foxy and flinching when he comes face-to-face with him, and shuts the door.

“What about the rabbit?” He asked, “The golden one.” He stated then, and he watches the older one baulk before his eyes went to him, Atlas watched him closely, blue eyes blinking like that of a curious deer, and the kid sighed.

“Plushtrap, he likes to play red-light-green-light, you get him on that X and you start the night at two instead of twelve.” He admitted, “He’s quite noisy, but I bet you’ve noticed by now-- you seem like a pretty smart kid, so why are you asking me this?”

“Jus’ wanted to confirm.” Atlas replied cheerfully, his eyes going to the clock just as it struck six, he didn’t go yet, but his hands fall from the closet door as he gave a smile, “Will you be here tomorrow?” He inquired then, watching the older one nod, “Then… what’s your name? I’m Atlas.” He greeted cheerfully.

The older boy doesn’t respond for a moment, eyes going half-lidded as he began to fade away with the scenery as Atlas began to switch locations-- but the little one hears the answer-- he hears the answer leaving from his grin as he uttered the name.

He flapped his arms as he comes to the hall once more, before patting his face and winding his flashlight to charge it, he listens as he does; and he notices that he seemed faster, the doll was shifting positions quicker than the previous night-- was it a rise in difficulty, he wondered?-- he shakes his head, he’d think about it later.

For now… he watches the darkness, hand moving from the winder to grip the light, and his thumb rests on the button as he listened, closer, closer-- and he flashes, watching the rabbit doll slump a little bit away from the X, he huffed, switching the light off-- he wondered if he’s taking his time to mess with him.

He closes his eyes, frowning as he stood there almost silently, he counts, seconds passing quickly-- ten seconds, he counts-- before he switches it on and watches Plushtrap collapse in a heap in front of him, another win.

Atlas wakes up in his room, wiggling in excitement for a moment before he hopped out to go see what his parents were up to.

\---

“I thought you’d go show yourself?” The older one asked, “You’ve been busy since twelve with something.” He hears the younger boy scoff at him, and the man laughed, covering his mouth as he did, “You usually keep to your word, why hesitate now?”

“Oh, piss off-- I was busy.” The boy bit back, huffing as he shook his head, hands stitch up a tear on pink fabric as he sits with the cupcake in his lap, “It hit the wall pretty hard… yikes, what an annoyance that was.”

“Did something happen?” The man questioned then, watching the boy go quiet before he snickered, “As I thought, things didn’t go as planned, did they? A shame for you, dear child.” He moved his head to avoid a knife being thrown at him, and he shook his head, smirking, “You are your father’s child.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, asshole.” The boy spat at him, head turning to the older one, “He didn’t recognise the newspaper, so that part hasn’t woken up _yet_ , I’m waiting to see if it’ll awaken soon.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night!” The man chimed, shrugging, “I found a claw on my end; I attached it to the robot that’s been out of commission, hopefully, she’ll be ready by next week-- it’d be a shame otherwise.”

The boy rolled his eyes as him, sighing, “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” He echoed back, listening to the man’s mad cackle.

_God_ , he hated him.

\---

“You’re in a good mood.” The girl observed, Atlas looks up from his drawing, looking to his friend with a confused look, the blonde girl smiled at him back, “What happened, Atti? You seemed like you’ve had something nice happen.”

Carrie-Lee, Atlas has known her since they were smaller, she was a year older than him, sure; but she understood him most out of their friend group, the boy looked at his brown crayon in his grip, and then back to the girl, grinning.

“You can say that.” He replied, giggling a little, “It’s a secret, though! I ain’t tellin’ anyone.” He huffed proudly, and Carrie could only chuckle at him as he went back to scribbling on his paper, the two are silent for a moment, with the girl watching the boy work on the piece of art he was creating, and her deep blue eyes focused on a stick-figure he had crudely drawn next to a smaller one.

“What’s that?” She asked, pointing to it as Atlas looked to her finger, and then to the figure, he gave a small smile, before shrugging, “You… don’t know, huh-- you’re weird, Atti.” She chuckled, “But a good kinda weird, y’know?” She reached over, grabbing his hand as she beamed, “Oh! Could you talk more about the restaurant your mommy’s opening?” She asked then.

Atlas paused, thinking before smiling at her, “S’a Freddy’s, Carrie.” He tells her, “I know that mama says it’s got a bad history, but she’s tryin’ to restore memories of-- of ‘what it should be’, I think.” He confirmed, and Carrie blinked, nodding.

The two then look up when they hear Carrie’s mother call for her, and the girl patted her friend on the shoulder, “I gotta go, Atti-- I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?” She replied, getting up and dashing off, Atlas waved to her as she left, before his eyes fall back to the drawing on the table, and he giggled, covering his mouth.

He had a secret-- a secret friend; and that thought made him feel fuzzy inside. He could still hear his name clear as day, too!

_ \--he hears the answer leaving from his grin as he uttered the name. _

_ “The name’s **Joshua**.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been waiting for this revelation and i hope you're happy with this returning character-- after all, he plays quite the role!
> 
> also, gosh, we've gotten over 1000 hits, thank you guys so much for being so invested in my stuff-- it makes me really happy!
> 
> but yes... with this, thanks for reading! the fourth night is gonna come soon, and i'm working on it asap ;D


	34. Questions, Questions.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But never a clear answer.

“You’re allllll the way from ‘83?!” He asked, head shifting to face him with a frazzled look, “Then you’re, like-- over _fifty_! You’re an old man! Old enough t’ be like, my grandpa-” He added then, giggling at the look that comes across his friend’s face as he stands near the closet, Atlas sits cross-legged on the bed, laughing mercilessly at Joshua, who could only give a sigh and a shake of the head.

“Yeah.” He replied, snickering, “I could be.” He flicks the flashlight into Foxy’s eyes as he stood there, before closing it, “Pretty sure my, uh-- my little sister, is your grandma, last I checked?” He seemed to frown at that, “Uh… sorry-- sometimes I tend to be a bit forgetful, considering how I died.” He gestures to the bandage wrapped around his head, Atlas blinked hard, a little confused at his statement then.

“How _did_ you die?” Comes out of his mouth a bit too suddenly for his liking, and he noticed Joshua tense before he sighed-- and then he went quiet, seeming to think about how to tell the boy the story-- it wasn’t a nice story, that much Atlas could gather from the body language alone, “If… that’s okay to ask--”

“No, it’s alright, I figured you’d be curious about the boy that just randomly appeared.” He responded, wandering to the left door and closing it, “Well… I died from a freak accident back in ‘83; it’s probably lost to history in general, right now, but Fazbear Entertainment remembers the Bite of ‘83 quite well.” He stated, his free hand raising to undo the bow down on the bandage at the back of his head, “I was shoved into the mouth of a bear animatronic-- the predecessor to Freddy Fazbear-- a faulty machine that was doomed to fail from the beginning.” He’s slowly pulling the fabric from his face as Atlas watched.

“Essentially, let’s just say that, to that bear-- I was _food_.” He stated, “The person who put me in his mouth… was my older brother-- I don’t blame him. He was someone who was going through a lot at the time, and dad had him wrapped around his finger.” His visible eye goes half-lidded, and the bandage gets long enough that he has to use his other hand to hold it-- flashlight stuffed between his elbow and side-- and he continues, “Dad was a charming man; but he was cruel, Atlas, _very_ cruel.” He hummed, the bandage comes off, Joshua looks down at the fabric, sighing.

“The bite was a massive contribution to my death, but I was still alive at the time-- I was taken the hospital, put on life support. I, uh… I stopped breathing about six times, and then… then dad pulled the plug on me.” He looked up to the boy fully, and Atlas lets out a massive gasp, covering his mouth.

On the right of Joshua’s face were scars, stitches and blood, but that wasn’t the main thing that the little boy noticed, no… it was the area where Joshua’s right eye _should_ have been, there was nothing, a bottomless hole that had no spark of life within; a void, where there was no sign of blood or any sort of innard behind a person’s eye should be-- and Atlas wondered if he made an effort to hide the true appearance to not scare him.

“...Anyways,” Joshua spoke up, beginning to re-wrap the bandage as he wandered across the room to the right door, leaning towards it to listen as he tied the bow once again, “I forgive Michael for what he did… I know that he’d never want to hurt me to the point of death.” He spoke, “He didn’t know it’d bite down on me.” He closed the door then, moving his flashlight to the floor with a little smile, he turned to the boy then, “The gist of it is, well… my death was on purpose, yet was caused accidentally.”

Atlas nodded at that, head tilting to the side as he sat there, flashing the Freddles away from the bed, “But then,” he started, “why are you here with me?” He wondered.

“Why _would_ I be?” Joshua echoed, but he doesn’t answer-- to which frustrated the little boy, who frowned with furrowed eyebrows-- the older boy simply gave him a smile, and walked over to the closet once more, peeking inside and looking away, “...I’ve a question, Atlas.” He spoke then, “Since you’ve asked me a question, answer me this.”

Josh turned to him then, eye half-lidded.

“ _Do you know why you’re here?_ ” A genuinely innocent question, but Atlas seemed to be thinking about it pretty deeply; he… didn’t _know_ , he wasn’t sure why he was here, or why he was being hunted-- all he knew was that he had to **survive** \-- so he looked to the boy, hands squeezing his flashlight before he smiled.

“No clue.” He answered then, and Joshua nodded, giving a small sigh ( of what? He wasn’t sure ) before the older boy walked back to the left door, peeking out to listen for the breathing of the monster outside, he seemed focused, and Atlas couldn’t help but wonder…

“Why do you wanna do this kinda stuff?” He asked, “It was jus’ me for the first two nights… where were you then, actually?” He wondered, a hand going up to his mouth as he thought, he flashes the light, dispelling the Freddles back under the bed as Joshua seemed to pause in his thinking.

“...Well,” he started, “I was waking up, so to speak-- it’s been… say, nearly fifty years since I died-- sometimes spirits go to sleep for a long, long time… at least, until they’re needed.” He explained, spinning to look at him as he held up a finger, “I’m, well-- I’m kinda slow, I guess, mental functions and all, so I couldn’t get here immediately.”

“...Okay.” Atlas nodded then, looking down at his lap, “Were… you ever scared of them? I’m not, they’re just really annoying-- the situation itself is scary… but those things, outside? They’re not scary at all.”

The older boy pauses, staring into the darkness of the hallway, before he chuckled, “I had a feeling.” He replied, “But yeah, I was-- I was damn terrified of these robots, they were a holiday attraction back at my dad’s diner, but later rebranded as main attractions-- they were typically used in summertime for the kids.” He leaned back then, “My brother loved Foxy, he had his mask and all-- it’s why the Foxy that’s here mirrors him by hiding in the closet since he used to scare me by jumping out of hiding places.”

“Huh… I see.” The younger boy smiled then, his hand enclosing into a fist near his mouth, “Thanks, Josh, I don’t got any more questions.” The older boy snickered at his use of words, and he pouted then.

“Hey, Atlas?” One brown eye turns to look at him, “Why aren’t you scared of them?” He asked then.

The child clicked his tongue, making a bored expression-- one that didn’t quite fit _him_ \-- and tilted his head, “They’re just not scary.” He replied simply, “I can’t find them scary at all.” He watches Joshua for a moment, and the brunette closes the door, sighing a little once again.

“...You’re a _weird_ kid.” He observed, and Atlas simply gave a cheeky little grin in response-- oh, he **knew** he was-- and they both look towards the clock as it began to ring, “Well, that’s enough for tonight, huh? Have fun with Plushtrap.” He gave a wave then, and Atlas closed his eyes before he opened them to see that hall again.

He wondered if he could keep his streak. He fiddled with the flashlight in his hand, and began to count, listening for even the mildest noise to appear so that he can flash his light-- eyes closed to further make use of his hearing-- and he tenses at the shifting, eyebrows furrowing as he stood, silent, waiting.

He keeps hearing it, shuffling closer and closer… he counts the seconds, taking a deep breath before he flicked the light on-- only to see nothing there. He thought… he thought he had him on the X, what on Earth? He bit his lip before flicking the light up--

\--Only to come face-to-face with the screaming rabbit before he woke up.

Atlas heaved, hand to his chest as he sat up in his bed, eyes getting a little teary from that scare-- he… certainly wasn’t expecting it. He rubbed his eyes, frowning as he moved from the bed, heading off to find his parents.

He needed a hug.

\---

“He’s questioning himself, more so now with the Plushtrap fail.” The man spoke, casually squeezing a plush in one of his hands, he props himself up by his elbow as he leans against the arm of the chaise, “Do you think he’s ready, yet?”

“No.” Comes the response from the boy, sewing a tear on the nightmare rabbit as he sat cross-legged on the floor, “He’s had a brief moment thanks to his own remnant… I still wonder how he got that-- is it inherited?”

“A **mistake**.” The man piped up, “When the mother gained that substance… it was with the intent to _control_ , but instead… it moved to him when he was born. There’s no use with using a five-year-old.”

“That’s why this is happening?” The boy replied, “I’m guessing he couldn’t be approached physically, considering the situation…” He sighed, tying a knot with the thread, “Not to mention, that woman…”

“Oh, his mother is terrifying in her own way; she wouldn’t hesitate to _kill_ someone for the sake of justice.” The older one hummed then, looking at the plush, “But… if this works-- well…”

He drops the plush, smirking as it hit the floor.

“...I would **love** to see the look on her face when she finds his body.”

\---

“Carrie,” his voice pipes out, earning the attention of the girl, dark blue eyes meet light blue as the blonde gives Atlas a little smile, the five-year-old presses his fingertips together, almost sheepish, “have… you ever seen a rabbit animatronic that’s gold or-- or… green?”

“Gold or green?” Carrie asked, seeming to think for a moment before shaking her head, “No, I don’t recall seein’ stuff like that from Mrs Fitzgerald’s stuff-- or Mr Afton’s, why are you askin’, Atti?” She questions, expression turning to one of childish curiosity at the younger boy-- Atlas lets out a little giggle, a smile coming to his face then.

“I was jus’ wondering since mama’s got the Rockstars set up, if there were any others in, like… other colours--” He explained, “Mama calls my f… fas-cin-a-tion with robots a ‘special interest’ so… I wanted to know what they were like, and other stuff.”

The girl laughed a bit, and patted his head, “That’s okay, Atti! Y’know I’d listen to you ramble about what you love.” She chirped then, grinning ear-to-ear, Atlas felt something warm and fuzzy at his core-- a feeling of ease around the other, one that he liked-- it was better than being nervous.

“...Okay, thank you, Carrie.” He replied, smiling, “I’mma go to Unca’ Mikey now, ‘kay? I’ll be back!” He breaks away from her, beginning to head off, “I’ll getcha a plushie from the prize machine whilst I’m at it!!”

He ran-- speeding past colourful balloons and balls from the ballpit as he went; though the expression on his face wasn’t happy-- it was one of deduction and calculation, of someone thinking.

For some reason, he couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something in his core that was reacting to other kids his age now more than ever-- one that scared him.

A desire-- one primal instinct that made him worry about what was going on, and if his nightmares had something to do with it.

The desire to _hurt_ , festering anger of someone that _wasn’t_ him-- and Atlas was unnerved.

He was unnerved because he knew full well that it was another person _entirely_.

And that person… wanted to **kill**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha yeet night 4 go brrrrrr
> 
> next chapter is the 5th night; and then the 6th night is the final night, what's gonna happen? that's for you to theorise and for me to write! with that said, little atlas isn't feeling too good.... but why? ;)
> 
> thanks for reading, as always! if you have any questions, comment or head to prizecornerz on tumblr!


	35. Blood and Teeth.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Migraines are the worst.

It was 12 AM that night-- they had to start at 12 due to Atlas failing last night’s game-- Joshua wasn’t mad at him, he couldn’t be; Atlas was just a kid, he wasn’t perfect, and shouldn’t be expected to act as such. It was why, as of right now, the two were running around the bedroom in an attempt to try and figure out what the heck was going on tonight-- after all…

...There were no nightmares. Nothing at all; no Freddles, no breathing… _nothing_. And Atlas was scared, he was terrified, actually-- because he didn’t know what this meant. They could be silently watching their every move; holding their breath and waiting to strike. Blue eyes flick to the older boy in the room, clear worry on the little one’s face as he fiddled with his flashlight, trying his hardest to keep a straight face during this.

“What’s going on?” He asked, and Joshua looked to him, frowning as he observed the younger boy for a moment, he seemed to be thinking, a hand going to his mouth as he watched the closet closely, visible eye half-lidded as he exhaled through his nose.

“I think the big guns are out.” He replied, head-turning to the left door, “That might mean..” He turns quiet at the sudden boom of laughter and footsteps, and Atlas glanced to him; observing the look of annoyed dread that came to his face, “As I thought… of course.” He ran a hand through his hair, jaw clenching as Atlas totters towards the right door, he doesn’t say anything-- in fear of accidentally setting off the spirit, and he sheepishly closes the door.

It’s far too quiet, and Atlas didn’t like it. The hair on the back of his neck crawled with the terror and anxiety that no child should ever have-- but he had it, he had it hard in this situation, and he hated it so goddamn much-- he keeps the door closed as he seemed alert and listening, more alert than he was the previous nights. He was too nervous to peek outside and see what horrors were out there.

A laugh rings through the air, but no footsteps were heard; Atlas looked to Joshua, who made a gesture towards the closet as his flashlight went to the bed. There was nothing on it… so that could only mean one thing, Atlas lets go of the door and heads to the closet, shaking hand moving back a door as he took a deep breath, and clicked the button on his flashlight.

And he flinches hard when he sees the massive head of a strange golden bear inside, teeth larger than the rest and bloody red eyes focusing on his small form, Atlas heaved a moment, shutting the closet door as he looked to Joshua, clearly alarmed; however, Joshua seemed to be glaring right at the closet itself, before he sighed, giving the little one a small, sympathetic smile.

“...Fredbear.” He murmured, “He’s, uh-- he’s kinda… unnerving, he works like all of the others combined-- it’s not good, kid.” He added, craning his neck to look at the ceiling, as though listening for the laugh and potential footsteps, “You’ll know where he’ll be with his laugh; if he’s also walking, he’s outside the room.”

“I’ve… never seen this kinda robot before.” Atlas stated then, looking to him, “Wa… was he-- is he the pred... Pred-e… is he the one before Freddy?” There was an attempt, for sure, but Atlas really couldn’t say the word this time around ( he had too many thoughts running through his head ).

“Yeah, he was.” Joshua stated, moving over to the left door and placing his hand on the wood, “You should ask your uncle Michael for details-- he’ll know.” At that, Atlas paused, Joshua perked up at the laughter and footsteps that echoed then, before leaning into the left hallway and shining his own flashlight to check just how close the monster is.

The boy doesn’t shift from the closet, but he opened the doors, sighing a little as he watched Joshua moved-- something was itching at the back of his mind, a twinge of annoyance, a piece of suspicion, but he doesn’t speak-- instead watching Joshua wander from the left door to the right, and checking it for good measure. He thought about it for a moment, before he shook his head-- it would make sense that he knew-- so he won’t speak.

He observes Joshua’s movements; methodical, knowing, like someone who knew exactly what he was doing; like someone he knew far, far too well. He screwed his eyes shut as his head began to pound, a dull ache of something itching to come out and break through the wall-- that little part of him that wanted to cause trouble-- to kill. Seeing the older boy didn’t help, in fact, it had intensified-- something that felt as though he should taunt and berate the other-- just like the old days.

And that unnerved Atlas because he had never met Joshua until a few nights ago. Blue eyes flick around in their panic as a laugh was heard-- but no footsteps, and Atlas’ hand shone the flashlight to the bed. He sees the head of the beast, and he flinches, making a face of utter disgust.

“Gosh, he’s _ugly_.” He states out loud, which causes Joshua to choke on thin air, and cough into his fist, laughing a little. Atlas exhaled for a moment, letting a small smile come to his face as he steps towards the bed, light remaining on the head of the bear as it hissed at him-- the flashlight flickers-- and then he was gone.

Joshua seemed to be watching him for a moment, and then he snickered, shaking his head. Atlas glances to him over his shoulder, an eyebrow raising in confusion-- what was he laughing about, he wondered? He shakes his head as they listened for the laughter, the echo of mischief in the air that would bring about their doom-- and Atlas was only sure that it was 5:10 AM.

“Josh,” he piped up then, looking to him with a frown, he glances back, tilting his head, “I was wondering-- why’d you choose to help me?” He asked, turning his body fully towards him, they hear laughter; just laughter, and Atlas ran for the closet, holding it shut before waiting for the other boy’s answer.

“Why?” Josh echoed, looking to his hand, “It’s a similar reason as to why you’re here, I guess… I’m here to make sure you know what you’re doing, and report any changes.” He revealed, “...But,” he spoke then, looking at the door as laughter comes from overhead-- and footsteps-- Atlas lets go of the closet, “there’s something else.”

Joshua turned to look at him, smiling-- Atlas felt uneasy at the grin, it wasn’t friendly, nor was it hostile-- it was just… a smile.

“You see, Atlas.” He continued, placing his back against the door and closing it-- he crosses his arms-- and tilted his head, “I’ve noticed you’re acting a bit strange. You’ve been more irritated; more… familiar, you’re smart enough to know, right?” He leaned forward a little, “Like there’s another person.”

Atlas pauses, and he nodded, Joshua leaned back then, sighing, “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to that… you have _remnant_.” He spoke, “A substance that differs depending on the type and the intention-- most commonly… it is used for immortality; living after death, as well as to emotionally charge items.” He explained, “Sometimes, like in your grandmother’s case, she was _born_ with remnant; as someone had died before she was even conceived, this is why her eyes are purple.” He closed his own brown eyes, “With this remnant coating permanently over her eyes, it allows her to see what the normal person shouldn’t see unless you’re someone like Mr Fitzgerald or your dad.”

“You mean..?” Atlas piped up, covering his mouth.

“The ability to see the dead; to communicate with them, it’s a dominant trait within your bloodline, now.” He stated, “But, remnant has another, _darker_ use.” He leans forward, craning his neck a little to see evenly with the younger boy, eyes half-lidded as he frowned, “A use that my father tried to create, and failed-- do you know what that is?”

Atlas seemed to grow smaller as Joshua’s eyes faded into a familiar, terrifying colour-- a purple that was darkened by misdeeds.

“That use, Atlas,” he stated, “is the attempt to merge a soul into a body-- what my father didn’t realise… was that the substance was slow-working, and by the time it got to its host, the first body already had a soul growing, and so it meshed; it made something that _surprised_ him, because it couldn’t be used as a puppet on strings.”

A finger raises, and it presses against Atlas’ chest, Joshua smirked, and the younger boy never felt so alarmed.

“It made **you** , Atlas.” His voice went a little lower, “And _that’s_ why you’re here-- because if you die… then you’d be doing us _both_ a favour-- father would get that lost part of his soul back… and I would rest easy knowing that my father wouldn’t come back as a _**human**_.”

“So… _I’m sorry_ , Atlas,” his finger pushes the child back, and Atlas stumbled, “but I cannot let you leave this nightmare _alive_.”

Atlas could feel the jaws of the beast sink into the top of his head just as it hit 6 AM-- it goes dark for him almost immediately, and yet--

\-- _And yet_ , he’s shaken awake by his mother at the crack of dawn, teary-eyed and almost in hysterics as she hugged him close, whispering in relief about how he had stopped breathing for a few minutes, and that it scared her.

Atlas had never clung to his mother so tightly in his life.

\---

**“Aww, you almost had him!”** The man mocked the boy as he watched from the chaise, **“You left him with an awful migraine, that’s better than nothing, son.”**

“ _Fuck off_.” Joshua whispered, pacing around the room in a small fit of annoyance, “God, I hate you, you know I’m only going along with this because I don’t want _another_ you.” He seethed, and William laughed, shoulders shaking a little as Joshua glared at him.

**“Of course, of course… we’ve both the same goal in the end.”** He chirped, eyes growing half-lidded, **“I hope you know that I’m _very_ proud of you, though… you were always an obedient child.”**

“Oh, gross! Don’t you fucking _start_ , old man.” He pointed at him, “I don’t need your goddamn validation.” He added then, eyes narrowed as he stood in place, William leaned his head in his hand, smirking at the boy as he covered his mouth to hide his snickering.

**“I know… what you need, is _help_.”** He replied, sitting up on the chaise, Joshua looked at him with utter disgust, and he held his hands up in surrender, **“I’m not going to interfere with your little game, dear boy… but I have a suggestion.”**

He holds out something to him, something yellow and shiny; a bowtie. Joshua narrowed his eyes at the damn thing, was he mocking him? He wasn’t sure.

**“This will make your appearance similar to that of your Fredbear, son.”** He spoke, **“Why have one bear… when you could have two?”** He snickered, and Josh looked at it, before sighing, looking away with a frown, his hand reaches up to take it, and he runs off, leaving the older man in the room alone.

William crosses one leg over the other, folding his arms as he watched him before he snickered.

**“Oh, Joshua… _far_ too trusting,” he stated, “don’t you know that it’ll change your _mind_ , too?”**

\---

“He’s been sick all day, uncle.” Her voice comes out nervously, in a soft burst, Michael’s eyes flick to Nova, whose pale hands ( paler than usual ) were clenched tightly around her son’s old baby blanket, she was trying so, so hard to keep it together, and Michael’s heart broke for the woman; Atlas was her only child, _any_ mother would be terrified to find their child not breathing, at least for a few moments.

“He’ll be okay, Nov,” he assured, a hand raising to place on her shoulder, “I’m sure he’ll be-- he might be small, but he’s a fighter, you and I know that all too well.” He chuckled, “It runs in the family.” He adds then, the woman raises her head to look at him, and she blinked, “It’s only a migraine, he’ll be right as rain in a few days.”

“...If you’re sure.” She sighed, leaning on him, “I’m just… I’m so _scared_ \-- what if I’m not doing this right? What if I’m a bad parent? I’ve been so busy with this project that I can barely spend time with him--”

She lets out an ‘oof’ as Michael bops her on the head.

“You’re an amazing mum, kid.” He affirmed, “Don’t ever doubt that, okay? You and Allen are doing great, and after this project, you can spend as much time with him as you want to, y’know?”

Nova blinked, and she gave a small smile, and nodded.

“...Right.”

...He couldn’t help but eavesdrop, Atlas’ head remained turned towards his bedroom door as he listened to his mother and uncle outside; little hands laying down flat on his duvet as he stared; blue eyes switch to his bedside table, a tray with medication, food and drink on it alongside his lamp-- a lamp that illuminated the room with constellations-- like he was staring at the night sky itself.

A pudgy hand raises, and he hits the switch on the lamp, watching the room flash up with multiple formations. He leans back into his pillows, and raises an outstretched hand to reach for the constellation just above him; _Phoenix_.

“To rise from the ashes.” He spoke quietly, eyes going half-lidded, his hand encloses into a fist, and he sighed.

“...I won’t become the man you’re scared of, Josh.” He whispered then, “I’ll show you that-- I’ll _save_ you from him.”

He promises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter's the finale let's fucking gooooo
> 
> but yes!! the remnant within nova was william's remnant; it was slow-working and fused with atlas' spirit with he was in the womb, and we also talk about the purple eye function and ~~BASTARD DAD~~.
> 
> regardless, thank you so much for reading! and i hope you're excited for the finale of the nigthmare arc ;D


	36. New Dawn.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow is another day.

He tightens the knot of the rope securing the closet door shut as he waits for 12 to strike; he found it in himself to sleep earlier than normal, thanks to the migraine and a few ideas that had hit him-- it was his dreamscape, wasn’t it? A place that he can bend to his will, however minimal-- and so Atlas had tested the waters and found out he had a form of hammerspace; he could will any item he pleased into the bedroom; however, the item was small, and it had to be practical.

Which was why Atlas decided to bring rope, door stoppers, and a spare flashlight. Rope to tie the closet shut, and to tie the spare flashlight to the bed; it was constantly on, though it needed to be wound, much like his main one; the door stoppers are self-explanatory-- they were door blocks-- and he could always push the wardrobes over the doors for good measure. He paces around the room, double-checking the set-up he had made before he sits.

His eyes go to the time, and his mouth presses into a thin line-- 12 AM. He laid down on the carpet, winding his flashlight as he begins to listen for any chaos that might slip through his sets. It was better to keep an eye on them, it might be a flimsy defence, sure-- but it was better than nothing, all things considering. He pulls himself up from the floor, wiping his face with his sleeve before he rolls them both up; he stretches, looking around the room before flinching at the sound of the Freddles screaming-- and then dispersing.

He takes a moment to breathe, closing his eyes and then looking towards the wardrobe-- he had always wondered something, he begins to clamber up the tall structure-- eyebrows furrowed before he pulled himself onto it; his back hits the ceiling as he positions himself to a crawl, before biting his lip and shuffling towards the thing in the corner.

A little chest, grey in colour-- with two locks dangling from it. Blue eyes focus on it, and a hand reaches out to hold one of the locks, it’s as he thought-- a locked box. He didn’t notice it until now, but when he was almost bitten by the bear… he noticed the gleam from the locks. Atlas knew there had to be something important inside; why else would it be so hidden and secure?

He was positive there were no keys that existed to unlock it-- he did a twice-over check of the room as he was setting up-- but this was a dream, and he could do something that can make unlocking that chest possible, right? He wracks his brain for an idea, listening to Foxy shambling around in the closet; to which there was no exit. He takes a moment to close his eyes and think, eyebrows furrowed.

“...L… lockpick.” He muttered, feeling something smack his head lightly before clattering onto the top of the cabinet. Atlas opens his eyes, looking at the two components on the floor-- a tension wrench, and a pick. He picks the two up, looking between them-- right, okay, he had what he needed.

He just… needed to figure out how to use them. He remembers his grandmother being able to help with it at his age, and he looked to one of the locks. He inhales, then exhales-- it seems he’ll have to play this by ear. He sticks the tension wrench into the keyhole, pulling it to the limit and beginning to fiddle with the pick inside. He keeps listening for the nightmares trying to get in-- at some point, he hears Chica’s cupcake smack against the door, and he snickered-- before he hears a clink.

He pulls away from the first lock, jiggling it and pulling it from the chest then, he beamed and placed it next to him before repeating the same method with the other lock, though he wasn’t sure how long it’ll take with how he’s doing it-- he’s just wiggling the pick, entirely inexperienced-- but he’s insistent that he’ll do it… what else could he do, otherwise? Just survive and have to fight them all over again… or to end this once and for all?

Atlas’ movements get a little more frantic as he hears the Freddles being shooed away by the fixed light-- and the faint breathing from the left door-- it wasn’t like they could get in, at least not right now, he wriggles the pick around the keyhole again, eyebrows furrowed as he finally hears a satisfying click. He pulls the pick out and left them to his side as he removed the padlock, holding the weight in both hands as he looked to it, he smiled and then discarded it before flipping open the box.

Atlas didn’t know what it was-- a pudgy little hand picking up the plush thing inside-- he climbs down from the wardrobe, and held it at arm’s length; a bear plush, much like the one on the bed-- but this one was golden, with a purple hat and bowtie… and then there were the eyes, black sclera and white pupils.

“...Weird.” He commented softly, inspecting it-- a curious expression on his face as he flipped the doll to inspect the back, and then flipped it back up. It ragdolls a little in his grip-- and Atlas had to wonder if this was just some normal plush… after all: nothing was normal here.

_“Don’t do that again, please.”_ He hears, and he almost drops the plush in his surprise. The white pinpricks on what he thought was plastic eyes shift to stare at him, _“I suppose you did not expect me.”_ It continued then-- though Atlas’ hands were practically vice-like in their grip now-- and a sigh emanates form the toy, _“That is… alright, I suppose you are the young Fisher, correct?”_

He couldn’t find it in himself to speak; so he just nodded, the plush raises a stubby arm to make a thoughtful gesture; the toy was thinking, clearly, it was alive, yet Atlas couldn’t understand how or why it was that way.

_“Boy. What is your name?”_ It asked then, looking him up and down, _“To think you are the one with Afton’s lost remnant… what has that man done to you poor children to try and get a part of his soul back?”_ It wondered, _“Perhaps he just wants bloodshed? Or..”_ It trails off, but does not continue.

“Um-- m’name, uh, it’s Atlas.” The toddler spoke, holding the plush a little closer with one hand; his other hand still gripping his flashlight, the plush shifted a bit, looking up to him then.

_“As in the titan; the one with the world on his shoulders.”_ The plush stated, _“A fitting name for you, young one-- my name is Fredbear, but not the one you know. I had been locked away so that Mr Afton could use his own son as a puppet-- but I will not be locked away no longer. You and I will make sure he is saved.”_

Atlas knew it; he knew that Joshua was not inherently evil, he knew that he could save him-- he just had to figure out where he was, and how. Blue eyes look to the doors, and he’s quick to notice the door stoppers on the right door seemed to be looser thanks to the cupcake’s budging.

But then… he hears laughter and footsteps. Atlas pales a little, “He’s back?” He whispers, looking up, Fredbear pats his face with a stub, and his eyebrows furrowed, the boy steels himself and pulled the plush close.

He had a date with death. He walks closer to the right door, pulling it open and peeking into the dark, he clicks his flashlight-- but reels. That… that wasn’t who he thought it was, the large, hulking figure that was before him was black in colour, with splashes of yellow.

_“...Nightmare.”_ Fredbear spoke then, Atlas looked down to the plush, _“That… that awful man, he tricked the boy. That’s…”_

Atlas looked up, and then frowned, strobing the flashlight in his grip suddenly, Fredbear almost tries to snatch it away-- but Atlas held it away.

_“What are you doing?!”_ The plush hissed, and the almost-serious stare that was given in response made the toy wonder if he had a plan.

“I’m going to confront the source.” The five-year-old stated, taking a moment to breathe before stepping back from the door, standing his ground and listening to the haunted cackling come closer, “You’re his plush, right? Maybe he’ll calm down and realise this is wrong.” He stated, “If you help him in the sense of morality… maybe it’s why-- it’s why you were locked away?”

_“...You are barely making sense.”_ Fredbear stated as the horror behind the door begins to make his way in, _“...but that’s the anomaly with your family-- your strange ideas work.”_ The toddler snickered before his face fell to stone as the beast enters the room; he drops his flashlight, holding the plush in both hands before speeding to the monster.

His hands thrust out-- and the plush and the monster were nose-to-nose, red eyes shift to focus on the little golden toy, and Atlas remains where he was, eyes closed-- sharp claws raise to grab the toy, removing it from the little boy’s grip. Fredbear places his stubs on the monster’s face, and Atlas backs up, frowning.

_“Joshua,”_ the plush stated quietly, _“you’re in there, aren’t you? It’s me-- your friend.”_ It spoke, a stub patting the snout of the beast, Atlas watches, hands clasped together as he observes the two, Joshua… his eyes shift; red to brown, first.

_“I’m here, Joshua. I will not leave you again-- your father locked me away.”_ It continued, _“Your enemy was never the child-- giving Afton what he wants will only lead to ruin.”_ the beast pauses, _“He will gain power; the child is different, with the will to learn to cultivate that remnant, he will become stronger-- he will not be like him. You can rest, my friend; you can stop.”_

“W… hy..?” Comes a tired whisper then, “Why did… he--?”

_“Power, dear friend.”_ Fredbear continued, _“He aims to kill. Don’t let him win-- there are better methods, there are better ways to make sure he does not use the child.”_ Atlas makes a little face-- man, he hates being talked about like he wasn’t there-- but he doesn’t speak, _“You know, don’t you?”_

A sigh-- one that let out so much tension with it, “...I-- I know.” His voice was stronger, and there was a dark flash-- what was once a monster was now a little boy, holding his plush close, “...I’m so scared, Fredbear.” He mumbled, “I don’t want more people to be hurt. That’s… that’s why--”

_“Yet, if you listened; you would be giving him that.”_ Fredbear stated, _“But now you can do better; you knew what I had always said, right?”_ It asked then, placing its nose to the boy’s.

“Tomorrow is another day.” He replied, “...Tomorrow is a **new** day.” He corrected then, “I-- I… won’t be dad’s puppet. Not anymore.” Brown eye looks to Atlas then, and he gives him a smile-- to which the other beamed back-- it was _over_.

“...Atlas... let’s go see a new dawn together, yeah?”

“Yeah!” Atlas chirped, the alarm clock chimes, and the two could only give each other a nod.

Tomorrow was truly a new day.

\---

**“...As I thought.”** The man sighed as he sits in the chaise, **“He was weak. His nightmare manipulation is strong-- but his morality… easily swayed.”** He murmured, standing from the seat then as he moved around the room, **“...That boy… that Fisher.”** He stated, a hand going to his mouth in thought, **“He’s more clever than I imagined.”**

He stands in the very center of the room, purple eyes falling to the floor before he chuckled then. He crouches, picking up an arm from the pile of torn nightmares-- he hummed then, weighing it in his hands.

**“...No matter, I’ve still got my plan.”** He replied, **“I’ll just kill him then; maybe his mother whilst I’m at it.”**

He looked up, smiling in the dark.

**“You won’t be able to keep running, dear children… I _will_ finish what I started.”**

Even if it was the last thing he did.

\---

“...I’m sorry, Atlas.” Was the first thing that came out of his mouth as the two sat on the porch, it was barely 7-- the sun was rising, and Atlas glanced at him from where he sat on the stairs-- eyebrows furrowing as he turned to him.

“What are you apologising for?” He asked, “You didn’t do anything wrong, jus’ doing what you thought had to be done.” He replied, kicking his feet a little as his attention turns back to the sun, “...I promise I won’t be like him, Josh.”

“...” Josh stayed silent for a moment, before he chuckled, “You’re already far better than he could ever be, kid.” He stated, he leans back a little then, head falling a little to look at the sky, “You said your mom is opening a Freddy’s with everyone, right?”

“Mmhm.” Atlas nodded, “...You wanna come with? Maybe… maybe you could make better memories with the place.” He offered then, Josh looked to him, a bit surprised at the gesture-- it was something he wasn’t expecting to hear after what he tried to do for the last week.

But then… Joshua smiled; the first genuinely childish grin in years.

“I’d _love_ that, Atlas.”

He couldn’t wait to make new memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a little weak but trust me, it's meant to be written like this because joshua? being a genuinely awful villain? he's a weenie he could never
> 
> but hey; we're at the end of the fnaf 4 arc... which means that the next arc is starting soon ;D, hope you've enjoyed everything so far, and hopefully i'll have another story out alongside the new arc-- i do have a few projects in mind, after all! such as;  
> \- fazfrights rewritten for the timeline  
> \- a ut story  
> \- a batim story  
> \- two original ideas
> 
> so yeah! im busy busy busy! hope to see you for all of those stories, for now, tho-- thanks for reading!!


	37. July 22nd, 2031.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Freddy's Rockstar Restaurant.

It was loud. Something Nova had expected from opening a children’s restaurant-- she had a child herself, and he was practically a little nightmare-- so the volume of the building didn’t come as a surprise. Her eyes dance around the ruckus of multiple children and their parents swarming around the dining area, older people ordering food from the staff whilst the children run off to play games, this…

...This is what she wanted in a job, she guessed; to make children happy ( to get rid of the past ). Her hands fold together as she leaned against the wall, a smile on her face as she turned to watch the four robots prancing around on stage, being goofy and having fun-- she wondered why her mother made them have AI at first… but now she understood. She watches them interact and be lively-- and her attention turns to the children who were watching, absolutely enamoured.

“Talk about a lively crowd.” She hears, and her eyes flick to her uncle, arms folded, she knew the man was giving a stupid grin under his mask, “Norah blew it outta the park this time.”

“No kidding,” she responded, “she went to town with this… ma’s always been talented with robots.” Her head tilts to the side as she watches blurs of colours zip around the room, and she lets out a little laugh, “The entertainer gene seems dominant in this family… we all like to make children smile.”

“Shame someone had to ruin that.” Michael sighed then, “But we’ll fix it, we _always_ seem to.” At that, the two share a nod, before a small blur of blue bowled into the woman-- Nova looked down and softened up when she ran her hands through her son’s hair.

“Hi, mama.” Atlas chimed, grinning ear-to-ear, he raises his arms up-- and Michael catches sight of the green security band around his wrist as Nova obliges-- he gestured to it, eyebrows raised in an almost surprised gesture.

“No way,” he whispered to his niece, “absolutely _no way_ you managed to find _the_ Security Puppet.”

“We found a prototype, at least.” Nova explained, “Ma made it a little more modern-- which… made it look more like a court jester.” She added then, Atlas leans his head on his mother’s shoulder, putting a fist to his mouth as he looked to Michael and grinned.

“Hey, buddy.” The man spoke, a gloved hand raising to run the back of it across the boy’s cheek-- Atlas’ smile got wider, and he let out a little giggle-- oh, Michael’s non-existent heart _melted_ , he would die for this boy.

“Have you gotten your gift from nana, yet?” He asked then, and the five-year-old let out a tiny gasp, “...You forgot, didn’t ya?” At the question, Atlas nodded sheepishly, smiling a little shily, “Don’t worry, Atti-- I’m sure she’ll seek you out.” Michael assured then, ruffling the child’s hair.

_Speak of the devil…_

“Where’s my booooy?” Norah called out amongst the crowd, and the child seemed to squeal and squirm in his mother’s grasp, hands beginning to flap almost wildly as Norah approached, the older woman placed a kiss on the boy’s forehead before smiling, “Hey, lil man--!” She greeted.

“Nana!!” Atlas yelled, holding his hands out to form grabby hands-- Nova handed him over, giggling at her son’s excitement. The boy looked at his grandmother, grinning ear-to-ear, “Mama and Uncle Mikey said you got something for me--?” He questioned, and the woman laughed, ruffling his hair.

“That I do, sweetheart.” She chimed, before putting him down, before pulling off her backpack, and opening it-- she held four plushies out to him, and Atlas seemed to stare at them, a bit surprised. Four plushies… all familiar, and yet-- the child grinned, wrapping his arms around them all and holding them.

“All for me?” He asked, and Norah nodded, she leans her head on her hand as she watched him look at the toys, “Freddy, Bonnie, Chica… an’ Foxy--” He murmured, and giggled. The three adults looked between each other, a little surprised that he even knew the names; it wasn’t common knowledge, but people _do_ talk sometimes, so they brush it off as the boy inspected the plush toys. “They have other functions!” He exclaimed suddenly, looking up at Norah.

“They do!” She spoke then, pointing to Freddy, “He has a lyrical lullaby index-- you can ask him to sing you any lullaby you want.” Her finger moves to point to Bonnie, “If you don’t want that, though, you can ask Bonnie to play music. Foxy can tell you any bedtime story you want-- and Chica has an oven to warm up anything you want, like milk or blackcurrant squash.” Norah explained, “I added the functions because I heard that you’ve been having bad nights recently… maybe they can make them better!” She added, and then leaned closer to him.

“There’s another one, but that’s for _Saturday_.” She whispered to him, “In your room-- there’s a little safe of yours that’ll only open then, ‘kay?” She leaned away, and gave a wink, “I hope you like ‘em!”

“I…” He blinked, and then smiled, “I love ‘em, nana!” He replied, beaming, “Thank you!” With that, he zips off-- no doubt to play with the toys. Michael rubbed the back of his neck, before looking to the women.

“I should probably go check in with the recent pick-ups, uh-- Nova, can you take the chore shift today?” He asked then, and Nova blinked, nodding, “Allen’s around, so I assume he’ll take care of Atlas when he needs it.”

Nova nodded, running her hand through her hair, “Alright… I’ll get onto that.” With that, the trio disbands into the restaurant; each going their own ways.

\---

Nova didn’t realise just how _dark_ it was in the office when she entered the room; locking the door behind her to make sure no one comes in, she doesn’t look around much along the walls-- which were riddled in cute little drawings-- and takes a seat, stretching as she hears the Tutorial Unit power on.

"Your restaurant is now officially open, awesome! That doesn't mean your job is finished, however. You've got a lot of work to do whilst patrons eat their pizza in the other room." She hears as she enters-- Nova clicked her tongue, an eyebrow raising in questioning as the Tutorial Unit they had set up for potential employees continued, "From your terminal, you have supplies to buy, papers to print, and repairs to make. Once you have taken care of all the items on the to-do list, you can log off for the day and get out of there."

_Great,_ Nova thinks, _wonder if **he** programmed the Unit to be snarky._

"Money for supplies and repairs comes out of petty cash, so don't worry about it coming out of your pocket! We got you covered." Not like she needed to, they had spent months setting this place up for maximum enjoyment, "The only money _you_ have to worry about is if you choose to upgrade any of the equipment in your office. Now, onto other matters, something to be aware of is that the ventilation system and your terminal are pretty loud-- and may prevent you from hearing things in adjoining air vents-- that won't be a problem _if_ there is nothing in the vents."

Sounds... like there are going to be things in the vents eventually, Nova could only pinch the bridge of her nose and wonder why Henry and Sammy agreed to make the vents big.

"However, if you feel that something _might_ be in the vents, you have a few tools at your disposal to protect yourself." It continued, "You can shut off your terminal and the ventilation system at any time, to decrease the amount of attention you are drawing to yourself, also, shining your light directly into a vent will most likely prevent anything from jumping out." At that, Nova picked up the flashlight, it worked similar to the vent seal system, didn't it? Just with light... "You also have three tools available from the terminal itself." And at that, Nova switched tabs on the monitor, reading each word she could find.

"There is a motion detector, audio decoy, and a secondary ventilation unit." The Tutorial Unit explains, and Nova snorted-- _great_ , they have decoys-- she just _**loved** _audio decoys, "Keep in mind, however, that you may only have one of these active at any given time. Now get to it! Simply log off when you've completed your tasks for the day, and you can go get some coffee."

“Lovely,” Nova spoke dryly as she set to work, “lucky for me, I don’t think there’s anything in the vents.” Her hand shifts the mouse in her grip, and it clicks the first task, watching the bar move slowly but surely, “...Should probably get upgrades for the system.” She observed then, leaning back.

It was the _least_ she could do for Michael when they swap shifts tomorrow; and hopefully, she prays that no lawsuits pop up when she leaves. She finishes the first task and then starts on printing papers, deciding to take a closer look at the other tabs again, motion detector, audio decoy, and silent ventilation. That begged the question of why she needed ventilation in this room; it didn’t make much sense to her, after all. And not to mention the audio decoy… she already knew that had to be the same kind from the Fright.

She hated to admit it-- but she seemed to be in the dark with what’s _really_ going on here. And she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing-- but it was something she needed to ignore for the moment, she checks back to the task menu, finishing the second task and then starting the final one, she stands from the seat, stretching as she rolled her shoulders back, an easy shift; one she didn’t mind doing, she watches the final task get down, and logged off, quickly leaving the room.

She couldn’t stop thinking about _why_ they needed such tools, though.

\---

He couldn’t believe his eyes. Gloved hands lock together as he brought them to his mouth, taking a deep breath as he stared at the robot before him, dirty, broken-- and yet someway, somehow-- it was _**still** _functioning.

“Congratulations on completing your first day. However, your job isn’t over just yet. There is another aspect to your end of day routine, and that is inspecting and salvaging any animatronics found in the alley outside the backdoor.” He did just that, yes; but he wasn’t expecting a pile of wires with an all-too-familiar head, “Things are found here quite often, and while we aren’t sure why, what we do know, is that they can be used for parts, which can mean a much-needed revenue boost before starting your next day. Of course, as with everything else in this line of work, those benefits come with risk. The safest thing to do is to throw it back outside. But then, you get no money for the salvage.”

He knew that, and they had no need for money, but this robot… his eyes dance down to the sheet in front of him, and he then glanced back up as the cassette continued, “Choose to keep it, and you run the risk of certain negative consequences – namely...death – should the item in question not be as docile as it first appeared. If you do decide to try to salvage it, then you must complete the Maintenance Checklist. During this testing phase, check on the animatronic frequently. If you feel that it is becoming unstable, use the taser provided to you. You can use it three times without damaging the hardware. Every use over three, however, will decrease the item’s salvage value.”

“Great.” He grumbled, staring right at the robot. His hand raises to press the ‘play’ button on the next tape.

“You have chosen to proceed with the Maintenance Checklist. Remember, use your company-issued taser to return the animatronic to a neutral state if you feel that it's becoming unstable or aggressive. You can only use it three times before it begins to damage the animatronic and decrease its value. Begin audio prompt in three, two, one.” Something awful comes out of the tape, but Michael stares directly at the wire-pile as he held his pen, waiting for something, anything before the tape ended, “Document results.”

He ticks a box as the tape proceeds to drone on, he tunes it out as he watches the thing, only recording when he needed to. He gripped the pen, quiet as he finally sees it twitch-- and his hand grips the taser, ready to zap should he need to-- but it doesn’t lash out, and he ticks two more boxes.

“You have completed the Maintenance Checklist and may proceed with the salvage. Well done. End tape.” He hears, and he ticks the final box before standing from the table before heading to leave, he turns back to check to see if it moved-- and grew rigid when he heard it.

“T-- thanks for let--letting me join the par--party, I’ll tr-- try not to disa--disappoint…”

His expression softened to one of neutrality, and his head shifted to look back to the door.

“You and I both, buddy.” He murmured, exiting the room.

He could only hope this keeps up.

\---

“This looks like a stupid game.” Joshua decided, looming over Atlas’ shoulder as the boy squirms on the stool, “I don’t trust it, kid; seems a bit too weird for me.”

“Don’t be a party pooper.” Atlas responded, kicking his legs around a little, “It’s just Fruity Maze, Josh! It’s not gonna hurt anyone.” He laughed a little, grabbing the joystick with his hand, “Watch me play, ‘kay?”

“Alright… I still think it’s weird.” The boy murmured, “I feel like it might hurt someone..” His eye shifts to the window, and he grits his teeth as he notices someone peeking through in the corner of the window, his eyes harden-- and Joshua seemed to glower at the other, holding his Fredbear plush closer.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Atlas called then, the ghost shifted, looking to him before giving a small smile.

“...Nothing, Atlas.” He replied, giving a small smile as he side-glances the shadow of a rabbit in the window.

“Nothing at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh god oh fuck here we go it's time
> 
> we got one feral woman, her mom and her uncle tryin to run the place whilst possessed metal scraps are like "hm no"
> 
> hopefully nothing bad happens ;D
> 
> anyways... thanks for reading! see you next chapter :D


	38. Fruity Maze.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atlas sees something he shouldn't have seen.

“That’s funny.” He hears, Joshua’s head shifted to look towards Atlas, observing him as he fiddles with the joystick on the game before him. Atlas was frowning-- eyebrows furrowed in an expression of pure confusion, the older boy leans over to look at it-- and his own expression had lifted to that of intrigue.

“Is it supposed to reset the level when you beat it?” He asked, watching Atlas move the avatar across the maze, the five-year-old seemed focused for once, and Joshua could only help but wonder just what on Earth was up with this; he had a feeling it’d be buggy, but it wasn’t like he’d think it’d be this bad ( wasn’t that other game a bit weird, too? Midnight Motorist? ).

Atlas clicked his tongue, eyebrows furrowing as he sits, his legs wiggle on the stool as he pays attention to the game; Joshua thought of it as rare, as Atlas never really focused unless he was passionate about a subject or a task he truly wanted to complete, so to see the little boy so invested in this arcade game… it made the ten-year-old ghost chuckle at his insistence.

But of course… that changed a little when he looked down to the game itself; dogs. Why were there dogs? Joshua seemed to think, a hand going to his mouth as the gears in his brain began to move-- what did dogs have to do with this?-- why were dogs appearing in this game?

Now that he thought about it further, he vaguely remembers certain events from 1985, two years before the blown-up missing children case… he notices the flash on the screen, and suddenly flinched-- eyes widening as he realised.

Atlas had no reflection; instead, what was shown was a girl, looking a bit nervous. Blonde curls and bright blue eyes that could rival the little boy’s in saturation, Joshua recognised this girl-- he recognised her too well.

Victims of the 1895 murders, he thought, Fitz, Jeremiah, Susie and Gabrielle.

He keeps watching as Atlas, though a bit confused by the bugging and odd reflections, continues to play-- and he can only affirm his suspicions, that was _Gabrielle_ , she was the only blonde in that group from 1985, Susie, he was sure, was a brunette-- Fitz and Jeremiah were gingers.

“Josh,” Atlas piped up, “I don’t like where this is going.” The level is completed, and the next scene made Joshua wince, hands raising to instinctively try and cover the little one’s eyes-- before he drew away, Atlas looked down at the maze, expression scarily neutral as he moved the little avatar around, bloodied footsteps and rabbits following in her wake.

“...Josh, look.” Atlas spoke then, pointing to the figure in the reflection behind Gabrielle when she appeared; Joshua gagged, hands covering his mouth with an almost haunted look on his face as they both stare at the golden figure.

“Bunny rabbit.” Atlas observed, continuing his game as the timer ticks down, slowly but surely, an inevitable doom that Joshua hated, but he could only wait as the clock goes on. Three, two, one; seconds pass by in the dark as the screen blacks out, Atlas looked up to Joshua, eyes wide before looking back to the game.

**‘He is not dead.’**

Brown eyes pinpoint on Atlas, whose fist was brought up to his chest; he looked paler, surprised.

**‘He is over here.’**

“Ah..” He murmured, eyebrows furrowed as Atlas curled in a little on himself, Joshua’s hands raise to grab his shoulders, and the older boy couldn’t help that feeling of anxiety as the final words come onto the screen.

_**‘Follow me.’**_

Josh couldn’t stop Atlas from bursting into tears right there and then-- he couldn’t help but feel bad for him, those words, that scenario-- it was something that would obviously strike a chord with the remnant inside of the little boy. He can hear footsteps rushing towards the location as Atlas is removed from his grip and scooped up into the arms of his mother.

Joshua couldn’t find it in himself to speak as Nova tried to console her son; but he turned his head to the window, locking eyes with a pair of dead white orbs, Joshua’s hands clench.

He had a feeling things might get worse.

\---

“Wonder what’s going on out there.” He wondered aloud, listening to the commotion outside of the little office room; his hand moves the mouse to click on the first task he needed to do, before his eyes glance between the vents at either side of him; he wasn’t sure how to feel about this, considering that there’s only one animatronic to worry about at the current moment. He simply keeps the task tab up, leaning his head on his hand as he tapped the desk almost idly.

He wasn’t sure where that pile of wires was in that maze-- nor, frankly, did he care-- but it was always better to be on guard than to be oblivious, he knew that all too well. Almost impulsively, his free hand moves from the desk to pat his chest; Michael wondered how he looked without the illusion disc, but then again, he didn’t want to know… he didn’t want to scare anyone with how he really looked.

However, he shouldn’t focus on such trivial matters for the moment; he had a job to complete, then he can leave the office and go about his day-- maybe even see what the commotion was that had happened outside-- he trusts Nova to take care of the salvage shift later tonight, it was part of their agreement… he just hoped that whoever she pulled won’t push her over the edge.

The flashlight flicks towards the vent, Michael refuses to acknowledge the robot that was squirming and banging around in the system distantly, a part of him hoped that it didn’t get out-- after all, if it did, there’d be chaos reigning just outside the door that he had his back to-- he couldn’t risk people’s lives because he slipped up.

A part of him reprimanded himself that he had suffered because he slipped up, and that his brother suffered because of it, too-- and if he slipped up now, his sister, his niece, even his great-nephew…

He clicked the next task as the first had finished, he didn’t notice it right away, but the system had been upgraded a little bit; he can only assume Nova was behind it, and he could only give a sigh of mild exasperation over just how giving that girl was.

And to think that she was such a risk-taker in the past… he could only wonder if she’d delve back into her own ways if she had to. He’d hate to see her get hospitalised again ( though, she did have a record of appearing in the hospital twice in a week ).

Lord help them should Atlas take after his mother, he chuckled at the thought; setting the final task on as he mused on the idea of such a young boy growing up to face the dangers that he shouldn’t be involved in.

If this all works out, however, there would be no need for him to face the dangers. Michael was confident in that much. So when he hears the final beep of the monitor, he switched it off, standing before heading to the door, he stops for a moment, looking over his shoulder.

“...Be kind to my niece, won’t you?”

A quick, but quiet request, and with that, Michael left.

\---

She couldn’t stop her hands from shaking.

Blue eyes focus on the thing towards her-- a monster that had haunted her dreams every night since the fire, the presence loomed over her own tainted bloodline-- having been the one to taint it in the first place.

This tension in the air-- the suffocating feeling of being smothered by oxygen alone-- she knew this aura. She knew this man.

Her hands close into fists, she takes a deep breath.

“Before you is an animatronic found in the back alley, we are unsure of its origins. It is your job to complete the Maintenance Checklist before claiming it as salvage.” She hears the cassette start, Nova sat up straight, eyes narrowed at the rabbit, “Or, if you choose to, you can throw it back into the alley where you found it, and forfeit payment. Please make your choice now.”

She presses the play button on the cassette once more, without hesitation.

“You have chosen to proceed with the Maintenance Checklist. Remember, use your company-issued taser to return the animatronic to a neutral state if you feel that it's becoming unstable or aggressive.” Her fingers relax from the fist-- and Nova has to hold down the urge to use it-- a trigger finger would be annoying at the moment, “You can only use it three times before it begins to damage the animatronic, and decrease its value. Begin audio prompt in three, two, one.”

The audio fills the air, but Nova’s eyes never left the rotting being before her, pen tapping almost rhythmically to the tune she could find in the tape, and at the result call did she tick the box. The next prompt begins to play, and once again did her eyes never leave the monster.

She sees him twitch, slowly move and react as the audio continues-- before she documents the result, she ticked the box momentarily as her other hand moved for the taser, eyebrows furrowed-- she needed to wait.

The next tune begins to play; Nova seemed as still as a statue as she sits there, watching his every move with close precision, meticulous and almost hawk-like. She keeps her free hand on the taser as he twitched again, leaning closer.

Nova’s shoulders tensed with how jittery the other was; it might be the bundle of nerves and the reflection of what happened when she was younger, but now…

She had so much to lose now, and she’s sure as hell not losing to him. Her pen ticks another box, waiting for the final prompt to play as she held the taser.

She sees him twitch once more, and she thumbs the button-- it was smaller than most weapons she was used to…

But it would definitely suffice. She jolts forward, shoving the taser prongs onto exposed metal and watching the rabbit convulse, before drawing back and watching him slump, she cringes, sighing as she sits back in her seat and presses the play button on the cassette, she barely wanted to look away from the animatronic… but she didn’t want to risk injury.

“Document results.” With that, she makes quick work; ticking the final box and slumping back, “You have completed the Maintenance Checklist and may proceed with the salvage. Well done. End tape.”

“...” Nova focused on the rabbit animatronic before her, and her eyes fell down to his left arm-- a sudden jolt of irony hit her-- and she laughed a bit, before standing up.

**“What a deceptive calling,”** She freezes as her hand touches the door, **“I knew it was a lie the moment I heard it, obviously… but it is intriguing, nonetheless.”** He continued, Nova clicked her tongue, turning to stare through the murderer.

“A calling or not,” she started softly, “you’re in no position to speak, Mr. Afton.”

A hoarse laugh is what was given in reply, but Nova seems to stand firm, yet, the spring-locked killer leans his good arm forward, staring back with interest.

**“You’ve grown.”** He commented, **“As your grandfather, I’m quite proud, dear… I’ve heard you’ve gotten married.”** Nova cringed as he spoke, eyebrows furrowing as his speech, **“I’ve heard you’ve had a child, too… I’ve seen him, you know.”**

“...Keep your distance from my son, you old fuck.” She stated, “Or else you’ll lose your other arm.”

**“Oh, dear child… I’ve no need, he’ll come to me eventually.”** He replied, **“Sometimes, my girl… the enemy is much _closer_ than you think.”**

A beat of silence between them.

And then, Nova flipped him off before she left without another word, Afton could only laugh at her as she did.

Because deep down, he knew he was right on one thing.

Atlas _will_ come to him in due time.

\---

“This is silly.” He declared, little hands slamming the crayons down on the table, the wax makes a clacking noise against the wood, and blue eyes then raise to look to the one sitting next to him, “Carrie, how do you do it? You’re so good with maths…”

“It’s because I understand it.” She responded, huffing a little as she twirled a pencil in her grip, “You’re starting school this September, Atti; I’ve been in school for a year and to do stuff like this, you need help.” She pointed at the worksheet, “Are you doing this because your nana was workin’ on maths?”

“Mmhm… it was really tough maths, ‘cause-- ‘cause there was a lotta stuff she wrote that I didn’t understand.” He stated, sighing, his head moves to the ghost next to him, “Josh! What was school like back then?”

Carrie could only follow his gaze, though she didn’t see anything there; it didn’t take a genius to understand that there was one thing Atlas excelled in over her; mediumship, something the Fisher family were notorious for… but in Hurricane, they were accepted; they had always been part of the community.

“Oh-- back in ‘83?” Josh started, “Well… it was the same, but the education was a bit… lacking compared to now-- especially considering all the new concepts and the like with different subjects.” He explained, “But some subjects are the same, like… music, and P.E…”

“Ooooh… cool!” Atlas replied, turning his head to chatter to Carrie, who listened intently, though her mind seemed elsewhere for the moment.

Her blue eyes stare at the mathematics sheet in front of her, and she twirls the pencil-- looking to Atlas as he kept rambling about the topic, Atlas might have mediumship, sure… but she had precognition. And she wasn’t sure if she liked having that talent; it’s why she kept it a secret, and will continue to do so until she’s older.

Especially since her precognition shows her scary things… things she didn’t want to see. Like Atlas, and the purple figure looming over him.  


Her eyes focus once more on the boy, and she smiled.

She’ll make sure that, whatever she sees, she’ll use to protect her friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUCK OK IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG IM!!! I NEEDED A BIT OF A BREAK FOR COLLEGE AND STUFF
> 
> but on another note; the security breach statues look amazing!! tho i am Looking Away at the gregory design, bc i have smth else in mind ;D
> 
> regardless, i hope you've enjoyed, thanks for reading!!


	39. Carrie-Lee.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What a strange child.

Precognition was both a blessing and a curse; Carrie knew that all-too well when it came to her daily life with this ability. It was a family thing; much like the Fishers, but the fact still remained that this power can give mental wounds. Small, pale hands reach up to grip the corners of the wall as she peeked around the corner-- blue eyes focusing on the two figures in the other room.

Mr. Afton and Mrs. Fisher. Of course-- the girl couldn’t help but wonder why they were so close ( as much as she liked the power of occasionally peeking into the future, she wished she could peek into the past ). It was something familial and warm; and it made her smile as she watched them, though her curiosity peaked when she heard what they were discussing.

“He said _what_?” Almost incredulous,surprised was the tone that Michael used; Nova could only really nod, a hand going up to her mouth as she seemed to think, Michael’s mouth pressed together, a thin line forming where it was, “Thirty years in a safe room did _not_ do well for his psyche.”

“We can all see that.” Comes the woman’s retort, Carrie wondered just what they were talking about, but deep down, she had a feeling; she could see it, after all, and it wasn’t pretty. Regardless, Nova continued, beginning to discuss something that the six-year-old couldn’t understand.

So Carrie tuned it out, closing her eyes and seeming to muse about what she heard, in the back of her mind, something began to ache; a feeling of pressure that slowly wormed its way through her head and behind her eyes.

A bright flash, and she sees it; her friend, bleeding from his front with a long, thin line ripped down his shirt. There was so much blood, but she noted that he seemed to not be worried about what’s happening. He looked a bit out of it, in fact-- not like she had any clue **why** he was.

She needed to look further, despite the growing pressure, she noticed the pair of hulking figures looming over him, and she realises it’s a vent system. She sees a rabbit, decrepit and rotten, and a clown, terrified and ashamed. Her eyebrows furrowed.

She needed to look further. She needed to--

Her eyes snap wide when something goes to her nose, her gaze shifts to the person who had shoved what seemed to be a napkin over it, and blinked hard.

“Mr. Afton--?” Comes her mildly muffled question, Michael can only give her a sigh as he wiped at her nose, Carrie noticed the colour red on the material. Ah, so that’s what the pressure was. The man could only give a small huff as he pressed the napkin against her nose, and the old man gave a friendly smile.

“Let’s getcha to your parents, Carrie.” He tells her, watching her keep the napkin in place as he took her by the hand, beginning to lead her off.

Carrie could only look dumbfounded as she catches a glimpse of something as she watched him.

**Fire**.

\---

“Oh my god. Oh. My. _God_. I hate you.” Flashlight strobes in the direction of the right vent as Nova refused to acknowledge the monsters within; one far worse than the other, but it wasn’t like she could do anything about it ( “You want them all here on **Saturday**!” She hears at the back of her mind ). Her left hand moves the mouse to click on the motion detector; scanning the area as she deters the wirepile away, she hadn’t seen Afton-- and she was unsure if that was a good or bad thing.

She wasn’t sure how badly she was struggling at the moment, but it was something she had to deal with. She’s done this song and dance before, so it won’t pose as much of a bother for her to be a bit lackluster, that stupid old man doesn’t deserve the best ( unless it’s the best effort to survive ). She releases the mouse, running a hand through her hair as she sits there, crossing one leg over the other as she looks at the tasks menu, switching onto her next with a frown.

Then there was the loud, rapid thuds in the vents, Nova cringed, switching menus and hitting the audio lure with a huff, this felt all-too familiar to her, despite how old she was now, the feeling at the pit of her stomach made her feel like that teenager from long before, where she put a brave face-- where she almost died-- and she shakes her head as she switches back to her task.

Not even a minute later, she has to turn her attention the molton mess of wires trying to scuttle through the vents; the woman can only give an exasperated sigh as she wards the thing off, feeling a bit bad for it-- the condition wasn’t the nicest, really.

But _that_ wasn’t the issue at hand here. She switches to her next task as she leans back in her chair, quietly listening for anything out of the ordinary.

...Nothing. That’s… she wasn’t sure what that meant. If it was good or bad, she didn’t know; and that was a little unnerving. Even so, she moved to check her tasks as she raises a flashlight towards the left vent, eyebrows furrowed as she did, Nova then moved to the motion detector, letting it scan as she checked the two vents to either side of her, blue eyes peek at the monitor, and cringes when she sees how close one of the dots are, switching to the audio lure and hitting one of the rooms, she huffed, eyebrows furrowing as she settles onto her last task.

She didn’t hear the noises moving away, and Nova can only tense her shoulders as she listened, she was playing a risky game; not even bothering to check whilst the printer roars in the room, she really needed to do something about that soon-- but she waits, ever-patient as she anticipated for something to happen-- only to hear the printer stop, and she shuts the monitor off.

Then she looks to her left and almost yells when she comes face-to-face with the rabbit, who only gives a hoarse cackle at her; the woman just hops out of the chair, grabbing the nearby crowbar tucked away under a box ( Michael’s idea, though she wished she had her axe ), she held it in a vice-like grip as she turned to face the other, though in the corner of her eye, she sees Molten Freddy deeper in the vent, watching with almost child-like curiosity.

**“Ahhh… you’ve always been fun to scare.”** The old man chided, the woman cringed, nose scrunching up a little in disgust ( she could smell rotting flesh and metal and oh god it almost makes her sick ), “Though you’re not the small, scared child you used to be..”

“It’s called a teenager, you stupid old bastard.” She grumbled, eyes narrowing, “Now get back into the vents or else.”

**“Fine, fine… you have finished your shift, after all-- it’s only fair if I play by the rules.”** He spoke, almost condescending as he bowed and crawled back into the vent, Nova exhaled through her teeth as she headed through the door, locking it behind her. She places her back against it as she gives another exhale; one of relief, before her eyebrows furrowed once more.

“You _liar_.” She murmured then, looking down to her left wrist to look at the charm bracelet; faded with age, but still able to fit around her wrist, “You never played fair to begin with, and we know you won’t start now.”

She pushed herself away from the door and headed off-- she had business to discuss, either way.

\---

“No way.” Was the first thing that came out of his mouth as he sat at the table, mis-matched eyes focused on the thing before him as the cassette played the introductory note, “No fucking _way_.”

He didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t want to believe she’d be here, too-- but Michael knew that believing is not all good. Gloved hands link together as he pressed his lips into a thin line; he could take his father in for the goal, sure, but a robot with a spirit that didn’t deserve this? He wasn’t sure if his non-existent heart could take it.

Yet she sits there in the chair adjacent from him, shut-off and unaware as Michael presses the play button on the cassette, watching closely as she twitches and responds to the music in the air, his hands shift, one gripping a pen, and the other moving to grab the taser next to him, green eyes flick just a tad, but Michael doesn’t move, not yet.

“Document results.” He hears, he ticks a box, eyes flicking down just a moment to try and record the instance, and he looks back up-- she hadn’t changed position. It repeats, audio of varying kinds playing with him documenting what he needed to as he watched the clown in an almost hawk-like fashion.

Once the check was done, he stands, eyes still focused on the robot before him as he sighed, a hand raising to pinch the bridge of his nose, he doesn’t speak, trying to figure out just what he could say to her; after all this time, all these years…

“Elizabeth,” the corpse croaks quietly, “I am so, so sorry.” His eyes close, and he hears shifting, but not from the robot, instead, transparent knees clamber onto the table as a ghostly hand reaches to ruffle his hair, his eyes open then, and he sees his little sister, smiling ear-to-ear.

_“What’s there to be sorry for, Mikey?”_ She asks, “I’ve no reason to hate you.”

The hand on the table twitched, and Michael could only think to himself as he hugged the girl close, at least for a moment as Liz leaned her head into the crook of his shoulder.

Michael was sorry for what she was going to witness soon; but for now… he wanted to just be with his sister.

The robot's eyes watch them, however, and she could only muse to herself as she watched the sibling reunion.

_'You really don't know who your employer is, do you?'_

\---

“Joshua?” Atlas called, sitting up in his bed as he looked at the boy; Joshua was looking out of the nearby window, almost solemn as he did, brown eyes glance to him as he snaps out of his thoughts, and the younger boy gives a little smile, “Is somethin’ wrong? I can ask mama if she can help…”

“No, it’s nothing.” Comes the ghost’s dismissal, Joshua waved his hand as he gave the other a worried smile, “I have something personal on the mind right now, kiddo. It’s… important.” He stated simply. He chuckled when Atlas shifted to lean on his knees, looking to him with an almost curious expression.

“And that is?” He chimed, before a pillow flew at him and hits him square in the face, Joshua huffed, softening a little as the five-year-old laughed, though Josh seemed to pause, thinking.

“...Hey, Atlas.” He started, looking out the window once more, the younger boy’s attention on him, “If you had a big argument with… say, Carrie, and you then weren’t able to see each other for a long time, what would you say when you see her again?”

“That’s suggesting that we’d even stay away from each other in the first place.” Atlas pouts, earning a laugh from the older boy, “...But… if that did happen, I guess I’d apologise if it was my fault, but… I wouldn’t be mad at her if it was her fault, either. As long as she changed in the time we were away from each other.” He mused then.

“What a grown-up thing to say.” Josh replied, and Atlas just gives him a raised eyebrow, “...Though, I guess that’s the remnant’s fault, huh?”

“I’ve started to pretend that doesn’t exist.” He stated, Joshua laughed once more, giving an understanding nod as he looked up at the night sky, “...Why’d you ask, Josh?”

“...I’m just wondering about what to do when I see someone again.” He responded, Atlas raised an eyebrow, but decided not to push further, curling back up into his bed, Josh didn't look at him, but he snickered at the shuffling, “G’night.”

He heard the mumbled words of ‘night night’ back, and Joshua shut the window, placing a hand to the glass as he kept staring. His eyes shifted once more to the Foxy plush on Atlas’ beside table, and gave a quiet sigh.

“...The time will come.” He whispered to himself, “I’ll see you again, I know I will.”

He’ll make sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY FUCKKK IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO POST I AM JSUT A FOOL but at least i have more free time to do it now.....
> 
> either way next chapter is gonna be Wild because hee hoo, clown moment, i hope you've enjoyed this chapter and i'll see you next timeee, thanks for reading <3


	40. Insanity Log.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shhh...

“You better explain to me what the fuck this is.” Nova stated simply, pointing directly at the schematics as Norah snickered. The blue paper was covered in measurements and code, but Nova could read one coherent thing on the sheet-- L.E.F.T.E.-- the woman huffed, eyebrows furrowed as Norah placed a hand on the blueprints, purple eyes reading the writing.

“It’s uncle’s writing.” The older woman then stated firmly, “Henry made it. He never told me what it was for, and I’ve never really seen it.” She added, Nova raised an eyebrow, clearly confused at that, typically, Henry would show them what he had in store; whatever was happening meant that it had to be kept secret, even from the people working with him. She pinches the bridge of her nose as she thinks to herself.

“There’s something else.” Norah spoke then, “You know that Egg Baby you set up in the main room?” Nova remembered it well, despite the weird design, it seemed to attract the attention of the kids, “Henry did install a voice log inside the baby’s storage tank for safe-keeping, but he said that it can’t be opened until the time draws near, or something.”

Atlas peered through the crack of the door at them, eyes wide as he listened; voice log? In the storage tank? He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but now that he’s heard it, he’s painstakingly curious about what it could be. The small boy pulls himself from the door, trotting off to the aforementioned egg-like robot. If it can’t be open until the time comes, then… it’s probably a timer safe, right?

He filters along the crowds of children, all in groups of two to seven, he keeps shuffling along the floor as he nears the strange thing. A tiny hand brushes along the plastic surface, tracing lines and indents. Atlas clicked his tongue as he seemed to feel for anything out of the ordinary on the Egg Baby.

“Mm…” A fist raises to knock on it, “ _Definitely_ hollow… guess mama and nana were right.” He murmured, eyebrows furrowed as he pulled back, he circled it, focused as he seemed to try and search for the compartment; or any opening that could let him inside. He knocks the red splotch on the smaller baby, and his eyebrows raise then. Hollower. His eyes raise to look at a small counter on top of it-- standing at 00:00. There it was.

He pushes the part in further, and then let go as it fell forward to reveal a VHS tape, the child leaned back a little, looking at it before he glanced around the room-- no one was watching, okay, good, he grabbed the tape, pushing the compartment back into place as he stands, holding the rectangular object, he had what he needed, but he needed somewhere to play it.

He could recall there being a VHS player in the office room, he thinks. He wondered how he was going to get there-- it wasn’t easy to sneak into a place that doesn’t allow children. His eyes fell to the door leading to the room, and then to the nearby employee, before he looked in the direction of the ballpit tower, before sucking in a breath. He murmured a soft apology before wandering over there and grabbing one of the ladders, rattling them.

Children fell, chaos ensued, Atlas refused to even look as he gunned for the office and closed himself inside; listening to the commotion of kids bickering and crying-- whilst employees try to quell things. He heaved, he was glad to be in a quiet place-- it was better for him to **concentrate.** He turned his head to the monitor, and pushed open the little rectangle compartment, and sliding the VHS in-- and so the screen began to play.

“I-It's only now that I understand the depth of the _depravity_ of this... **creature** \- this monster that I unwillingly helped to create.” Atlas’ ears prick up at the voice, a voice he knew well; Uncle Henry, “As if what he had already done wasn't enough, he found a new way to desecrate, to humiliate, to _destroy_. As if the suffering wasn't enough, the loss of innocence, the loss of everything to so many people. Small souls trapped in prisons of **my** making now set to new purpose and used in ways I never thought imaginable.”

The child frowned, feeling a small grip on his shoulder as he looked up; Joshua stood with him, pale and wide-eyed, Atlas could not blame him-- he _needed_ to hear this.

“He lured them all back. Back to a familiar place. Back with familiar tricks. He brought them all together. Are they still... _aware_? I hope not. It keeps me awake at night. I could make myself... sleep. But not yet.” Not yet? What does he mean by that? Atlas could hear Joshua give a gag, “Not until I undo what he has done and heal this wound - a wound first inflicted on me, but then one that I let bleed out to cause all of this.”

“What does he mean?” Atlas asked Joshua quietly, the ten year old looked to him, his free hand clenching and unclenching incessantly, the boy shook his head, and Atlas could only frown as the tape continued.

“He set some kind of trap. I don't know what it was, but he led them there again. He overpowered them again. And he robbed them of the only thing that they had. Again.” Again? Atlas closed his eyes and tried to concentrate; to bring up that piece of remnant within that knew the truth-- and all he saw was _bodies_ and _blood_ before his eyes snapped wide, and yet… the tape continued, “I don't know how those tiny breaths of life came to inhabit those machines. But they will never find rest now. Not like this. I have to call them all back. All of them…”

“... **Together** , in one place.” There was a click, and Atlas’ clammy little hands raised to grip Joshua’s sweater, blue eyes tearing up, Joshua looked down at him, and then he understood.

“You didn’t.” He whispered, raising a hand to try and wipe the younger boy’s eyes, “You need to get out of the room, Atti, if you focused then--”

**“--Who’s leaving, now?”**

Atlas’ vision goes black.

\---

A gloved hand taps the desk almost absent-mindedly as Michael sits in the office, something felt wrong, to him, at least-- the commotion from earlier had died down and thus within the chaos he had lost track of what was happening; and he knew that there was something different when it was all over.

But regardless, he has the task menu up, and was currently waiting for the latest task to finish, eyes flicking between the vents at either side of him as he did, the timeframe where they had to do tasks was tedious, and it was a good idea to have split the work between him and his niece, it meant that they had free time in-between and that there was less of a chance to overwork. The man gave a soft sigh as he heard the click from the monitor, and hit the button for the next task, turning his attention to the screen. His eyes wander down; and he catches sight of the VHS player at the bottom of it.

It seemed like it’d been messed with, but he didn’t have the time to focus on that now, he looked to the right vent, and casually shooed away Molten Freddy with a huff, “Not now,” he replied, watching the metal pile squirm and wriggle back on his way, “sheesh…”

The sounds of the printer going off alerts him back to the monitor, and he switches the menu-- scanning for motion in the maze of halls and metal. He then sees it; four blinking lights around the area, three appear to be congregating-- one was wandering, though close to him.

He narrowed his eyes at the screen.

...There shouldn’t be four. _Someone else was inside._

And then he hears the frantic scream of a child in the distance, and Michael swears that he had never moved so fast. He climbs into the vent, leaving the monitor to autorun tasks and he begins to maneuver through the place, inching closer and closer-- and he could smell it, despite the lack of nerves, that illusion disc of his could still perceive smells-- he could smell **blood**.

**“Stop wriggling,”** he hears his father chime, **“it won’t do you any good… no one can hear you.”** Among the taunting tone, he could hear Elizabeth, hiccupping and crying in what he could imagine was helplessness; and then…

“Shut your mouth!” _Atlas_. Michael slid through the vent into the small room, creeping as he rounded the scene, there was too much blood-- too much for the boy to be alive, and yet, he was.

But he didn’t look pretty. The front of his shirt was torn and stained red as a long claw-like line ran down the middle of his collarbone to just above his belly button; Michael cringed, thumbing the taser on his belt as he brought it up, William didn’t seem to be paying any mind, as he raised his left arm ( or shiv, from how sharp his bone was ), and aimed it.

Michael jabbed the taser onto his neck. Atlas lets out a gasp as the rabbit convulses, and Michael faintly hears Elizabeth give a sigh of relief as the rotten rabbit crumpled into a heap. The corpse wiped his mouth almost impulsively, and went to grab the injured boy.

“Un-- Unca’,” the boy murmured, grabbing his sweater, “I’m sorry, I-- I didn’t--” He went quiet as Michael ruffled his hair, though he looked between a mix of thoroughly annoyed and highly relieved.

_“Mikey,”_ Elizabeth starts, _“you need to get him outta here. Before father wakes.”_ The siblings seem to share a nod before Michael guns for the exit, Atlas wheezing a little.

The last task gives a click when Michael enters the office, and the man clicks his tongue, raising a bloodstained glove to turn it off before leaving.

He’s going to call a hospital.

\---

This was awful. This was **not** good.

Shaky hands grip the table as Nova sits in the chair, still horrified at what had happened to her son; she knew Allen was with him right now, but God, he was only five-- he was far too young for this. She felt like ripping her hair out, to curse and try to hurt Afton for what he did.

But she couldn’t. She had to _wait_.

Yet waiting was boring. Her hands remained gripped on the table as she took a breath; closing her eyes as the cassette begins to play, she grabs a pen, beginning to scribble down notes whilst paying attention to the robot before her; one that had quite a likeness to Rockstar Freddy, she noticed-- but a part of her knew what it was. She had an idea.

The robot stared back at her. Nova kept eerily silent as she ticked the boxes, the black bear did not move; only observed, and closely, at that. It didn’t take long for the task to be completed, and the cassette shutting off let Nova know that it was over, so she stood from the chair, heading to the door.

And yet…

_“...Nightlight…”_

Her hand freezes on the doorknob. Her head turns, looking towards the bear with an expression akin to a mix of surprise and horror. The bear tilted their head back, and then to the side a little, Nova knew they were smiling. That behaviour, the name…

“...There’s two of you.” She murmured, the robot nodded, free hand raising to place itself over the star on their chest.

_“A golden skeleton and a musical hostage.”_ They riddled, _“ **We** are here, Nova. We’re sorry we didn’t stick around for long.”_ Nova could only pinch the bridge of her nose as she stood there, frowning.

“...Greg, Del, how the _fuck_ did you end up like this.”

A sweet laugh leaves the bear-- Delancy-- before they answered.

“You’ve seen the blueprints, you should know.” Nova paused, and then closed her eyes, trying to think. Lure, Encapsulate, Fuse, Transport, Extract. Now she understood what the ‘fuse’ part meant.

_“...Nightlight,”_ their soft voice comes then, _“...do you need a shoulder to cry on?”_ It was sudden, but Nova looked at them, and then gave a tired sigh.

“I would like that.”

The bear opened their arms, and Nova went in for the hug.

She really needed it.

\---

“They’re getting ideas.” The woman spoke, the room stayed silent, two men seemed to be sitting at the table inside, one much older than the other, and the woman rubbed her temples, “They found the tape.”

“...A… Atlas did.” The younger man stated, rubbing his throat almost thoughtfully, “He seemed to be a l-- little shaken.” The older man looked to him, and patted his shoulder, a beat of silence surrounded the room.

“They’re all here.” The older man spoke then, the other two looked at each other, and then back to him, “So we can do what we need to do.”

“When?” The woman asked, linking her hands together, the younger man pressed his mouth into a thin line, eyebrows furrowing as the older man closed his eyes.

“Tomorrow.” He stated, before opening his chocolate brown eyes.

“ **Tomorrow** , we’ll _end_ this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter is the last chapter of the connection arc :) then we're scheduled for Bullying William In Hell Hours!!
> 
> either way, i hope you liked this chapter, i was especially mean to atlas for the sake of something in the ucn arc sdfjjgfhj  
> thanks for reading <3


	41. Connection Terminated.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all comes to an end.

“Ugh.” Comes one voice. The man raises his head to look at the source; a blonde woman rubbing her temples as she sits at the table with him, his mouth pressed into a thin line, eyebrows knitted together as he focuses on her over the amount of children.

“Something up?” He asked, the woman glanced to him, brown eyes blinking tiredly, before she gave a smile, Michael knew that smile all-too well, having grown alongside the other. It wasn’t often that she would be down; Charlotte Coriander was _always_ a jovial person.

“Nothin’ important to do with the pizzeria.” She responded, “I just… poor Atlas-- he’s still in hospital, right? Will made Liz leave such a nasty wound.” Michael frowned as he listened, and he gave a nod, understanding what she meant, “Why’s that old man so… awful--? What even made him like this?” That was something Michael himself wondered; what made his father, a man who he had known to be ‘amicable’, turn out to be such an awful person?

Whatever it was, it didn’t matter now; reasons did not excuse murder and playing God. Michael exhales through his nose as he looks at the woman, before giving a little smile.

“No point wondering when we’re sending him to the grave.” He informed her, Charlotte blinked then, and nodded, frowning.

“...You know she won’t be happy with how we plan to do it.” She murmured then, running a finger along the table, “She’s the only one in on this plan that doesn’t know what’s gonna happen-- when… when it starts, what do you plan to do?”

What did he plan to do? Michael paused at that, seeming to think, yeah, sure, it’s been easy to have help from the other woman in the building, but the older people there knew what had to be done; she was left in the dark-- and that made him feel bad.

But it was better to keep obstacles out of the way.

“So… it’s almost time.” Michael took a moment to take a deep breath, “I just… I hope everything will be okay when it does.”

“I’m sure it’ll be, Mikey.” Charlotte whispered to him, “It’s the best option we have, and we all swore that we’d cut off all the loose ends…”

“...Even if we have to go with them.”

\---

This was fishy.

Nova couldn’t help but stay silent as she sat in the chair, eyes focused on Michael, who seemed to be fiddling with the vents, she glances to the screen, watching the tasks tick on by as she taps her fingers against her kneecaps, closing her eyes and trying to listen for the sounds of the robots within the maze coming any closer than they should.

Whilst there was that weird sense of dread, the woman couldn’t help but feel at ease knowing there was someone else with her, especially after the chaos of yesterday… she rubbed her eyes then, before looking up at the screen once more, switching from one task to the next.

“...Nova?” Michael called, bringing her attention over, the older man gave a small smile, tilting his head, “You holding up well?”

“Yeah.” She replied, leaning back in the seat, “I guess my nerves are all tangled up and on high alert.” Not to mention how weird it was when Michael insisted on coming to the office for the shift. Everything was getting jumbled up and Nova was unsure if it was a good or a bad thing.

“Hey,” he placed a gloved hand on her shoulder, “it’ll be okay, honest.” He assured, “I’m positive things will get better.” A double meaning to him, of course. Nova looked over as the tasks autorun, silent as she seemed to think about what he said.

“Uncle.” She spoke then, “Is there something else to this?” Her head moved to look at him, seeing him smile and shake his head; before relaxing a tad as she watched the tasks.

The sounds drew closer, and Nova moved an arm to set the audio lure, expression neutral for once as Michael monitored the vents, before suddenly-- Nova perked up, eyes widening-- hearing the sound of something sizzling.

And so it all went dark for them, Nova scrambled from the chair, reaching out to grab Michael’s arm to make sure he was there, her hands grip fabric, and she heaved a sigh of relief as her uncle looped an arm around her shoulders.

“You played right into our hands. Did you really think that this job just fell out of the sky for you?” The two heard, and Michael rubbed his niece’s shoulder, mumbling to her for a moment, they both knew who it was-- it was Baby, whilst Elizabeth was forced back.

“No. This was a gift, for us. You gathered them all together in one place, just like he asked you to. All of those little souls in one place, just for us.” The woman heaved then, so that’s why, so that’s why they hurt her son; that’s why they kept trying to escape.

“A gift. Now we can do what we were created to do, and be complete!” That twisted joy made Michael feel sick to whatever was left of his stomach; but he knew better, he knew that he needed to wait as Baby continued, “I will make you proud, daddy! Watch, listen, and be full-”

A beep. Michael let out a sigh of relief, he really hated the robot using the honorific for his father; he might have created her, yes… but that didn’t make the wound from Liz’s death any better.

But he smiled then; because he knew what was going to happen.

“Connection terminated,” a familiar man’s voice spoke then, “I’m sorry to interrupt you, Circus Baby, and Elizabeth… if you still even remember that name-- but I am afraid you have been misinformed.” Michael feels Nova shift, and now that his eye has adjusted to the darkness, he sees her look at him quizzically; to which he presses a finger to his lips and winks.

“You are not here to receive a gift, nor have you been called here by the individual you assume. Although you have indeed been called.” Henry continued over the comms, “You have all been called here. Into a labyrinth of sounds and smells, misdirection and misfortune. A labyrinth with no exit, a maze with no prize.” The monitor flickers to reveal the map of the vent maze, Nova seemed to watch and listen enamored, “You don't even realize that you are trapped. Your lust for blood has driven you in endless circles, chasing the cries of children in some unseen chamber, always seeming so near, yet somehow out of reach.”

The woman can hear the crackling of something and Michael takes a step back near the door with her, smiling still.

“But you will never find them, none of you will. This is where your story ends.” The old man stated, “And to you, my brave volunteers, who somehow found this job listing not intended for you. Although there is a way out planned for you, I have a feeling that's not what one of you wants.”

“Not what--?!” Nova starts, but she's shoved through the door of the office, the barrier between her and Michael locking him in, and her out, the man placed his back against the piece of metal, giving a soft sigh as he hears the banging of fists and the yell of his name.

“To the one who wishes to leave; the exit is opened, you have so much to lose, and I am sure that there are people who want you to live.” Henry speaks, Nova gave a heave as she placed her head against the other side of the door ( it wasn’t fair, she was left in the dark and now because of that… ).

“...Michael, I have a feeling that you are right where you want to be. I am remaining as well, I am nearby.” The older man continued, Michael nodded to no one in particular, smiling still despite his eyes watering, distantly, he can hear the screams and yelling of animatronics that tried to escape, but to no avail.

“This place will not be remembered, and the memory of everything that started this can finally begin to fade away. As the agony of every tragedy should.” The blonde stated, “And to you monsters trapped in the corridors: Be still and give up your spirits, they don't belong to you.”

He can hear vague shuffling in the vents nearby, so Michael turned his head to look in that direction, softening when he sees an orange head of hair and teary green eyes as the office slowly lights up thanks to the fire out in the maze, Elizabeth hiccupped, squirming out of the vent and clinging to him; Michael listened to the outside, and heard nothing else, Nova had left.

“For most of you, I believe there is peace and perhaps more waiting for you after the smoke clears.” Henry continued as Michael ran a hand through Elizabeth’s semi-opaque hair, “Although, for one of you, the darkest pit of Hell has opened to swallow you whole, so don't keep the devil waiting, old friend.”

The siblings share a snort, before looking to each other and laughing a bit.

“My son… my daughter, if you can both hear me, I knew you would return as well. It's in your natures to protect the innocent.” Michael notes that Henry’s voice had turned a bit tearful, “I'm sorry that on those days, the days you were shut out and left to die, no one was there to lift you up into their arms the way you both lifted others into yours. And then, what became of the two of you.”

“I should have known you wouldn't be content to disappear, not my children. I couldn't save you both then, so let me save you now…” Henry chokes up a little beyond the comms, “God, Greg, Del… I am so, _so_ sorry.” He whispered, before pulling himself together once more.

“It's time to rest. For you, and for those you have carried in your arms. This ends for all of us.”

A beat.

“End communication.” A click resonates in the air, and Michael breathes a sigh as the smoke begins to seep into the room, Liz pulls away from him, smiling tearfully as Norah shimmied into the room via a vent, the older two share a nod, before they share a small reunion.

_“Are you three really gonna have a reunion without me?”_ A voice asked, the two looked to the desk, and Joshua looked back, arms folded and legs crossed, before he hopped off and flung himself at them.

“Josh, Josh--” Michael whispered, hugging him close, “Oh, God, kid, I’m so sorry--”

_“Ugh, Mikey!”_ The younger brunette complained, _“You don’t gotta apologise-- I’ve forgiven you long ago.”_ He takes the man by the face, smiling, _“I love ya, Mikey.”_

Michael chuckled, ruffling his hair as he held Liz and Norah as well, “Love you too, kids.” He replied then, before he closed his eyes.

...On the other end of the maze, three people look around the room-- Charlotte, Samuel and Henry-- the twins holding each other's hands, whilst their father’s shoulders relax.

“Dad,” Charlotte spoke then, “do you think it’ll be quick?” Henry looked to her, before shaking his head, the girl sighed then, and Samuel chuckled dryly as the flames drew closer.

_“Father.”_ Comes a quiet voice then, _“Charlie, Sammy.”_ The trio turn their heads, looking to the duo that stood near them, Gregory was smiling for once, and Delancy gave a small nod before going in to hug each and every one of them.

Amongst the teary reunion, Greg chuckled a little, musing to himself about how this was the start of a new era before joining his family.

Finally… they can rest.

\---

It’s been two weeks. A funeral was held for the five people that were caught in the fire and never survived, and those who had been affected had been checked on to ensure no lasting damage.

Though, that damage could only be skin-deep, others… were mentally wounded, such as she, who sat in front of the graves, each adorned with new flowers as she ran a hand through her hair.

“...I… could see why you never told me.” Nova uttered softly, looking at the graves one by one, “...I just-- **God** , I just-- I just wish that I had an idea of it. You snakes..” She grumbled, before screwing her eyes shut-- she shouldn’t be so mad about this, at the end of the day… it was for the better.

“Nova,” she hears, before her head cranes up to look at her husband; Allen smiled, holding out a hand, “Atlas is getting restless, we should get back to the picnic.”

“...Right.” She replied, grabbing his hand and allowing him to pull her up-- the two head off to find their son and the others they were spending the day out with.

The flowers on the grave rustled gently in the wind.

It was all over.

\---

He wasn’t sure how long it’s been. His hand spins a pen within as he sits at the desk, black eyes staring down at the schematics of the building he created; it took two years to build and develop the challenges, and it’s been running for four years now that the victim had been implemented, but…

Something felt wrong, he wasn’t sure what it was; it felt like there was a weak spot, a crack within his work, sure, he’s not a perfectionist, and he’d rejected freedom and decided to stay up countless hours thinking about the challenges and how, despite how _unfair_ William had been to him, fair he could make it ( he wasn’t someone who would fumble the game because he’s **angry** , it’s best to give a fighting chance and watch him _struggle_ for it ).

He clicked his tongue, staring down at the paper, he knew that he couldn’t go there himself; it meant that he would be open to being corrupted due to William’s spiritual presence. Gregory closed his eyes, pressing his mouth into a thin line; he needed someone living, with a strong connection to the dream world to lessen the risk of actually bringing them to hell.

His eyes snapped open then, he knew _exactly_ who to ask, and when it came down to it; they had unfinished business with each other, did they not?

He looked to the door of his office, and a small smile came to his face.

_“I wonder just how much he’s grown up.”_ Greg wondered, _“I’m sure the others would like to see him, too…”_

The teenager stands from the chair, stretching and heading to the door, grabbing the knob before taking a deep breath.

_“Atlas Cepheus Fisher,”_ he murmured, _“I can only hope good things have blessed you when I visit.”_

Gregory opens the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOOOO YEAHHH BABY THIS IS WHAT IVE BEEN WAITING FOR /j
> 
> fr tho! i am so glad to have finished this chapter- it's not my best work because it was SO FUCKING DIFFICULT to write, but i did it! i hope you enjoy reading this, we all know what the next arc will be; and it'll introduce a new face to the scene! ;D
> 
> thanks for reading!


	42. August 30th, 2037.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To come face-to-face with what was once you is scary.

_Six years._

It had been six years since the fire. A lot had happened during that time; his mother opened another restaurant that wasn’t related to Freddy’s; one that families loved, his dad was working hard to create new robots to go along with it-- and they’re still doing it, so it left Atlas to his own devices often-- not that he minded, now, he was eleven, entering middle school soon enough.

That wasn’t the only big thing that happened. A hand raises to cover the light of his room as he sighed then, closing his eyes to take a moment and breathe before opening them again, he gets up, hopping from his bed and meandering out of the room as he heads down to the living area.

“A-lu-laaaa?” He called, watching the small head of auburn hair stick up and blue eyes look at him, Atlas held out his arms, “I finished my homework, sweetpea! You wanna play something?”

“ATTI!” The four year old yelled suddenly, clambering over the couch to cling to the boy. Small hands find the bottom of his hoodie, and Atlas loops his hands under Alula’s arms to hoist her up, the girl grinned at him, “I wanna play!!” The eleven year old lets out a laugh, cradling his baby sister close as he moves to the kitchen.

“Have you had a snack, first?” He asked, watching her tilt her head, “I’m pretty sure I set Ella to do that… maybe she bugged out again, I’ll have to check.” He mused, setting her down on the counter, “I heard Auntie Sel’s coming by later, ma an’ pa just left, right? So it’s just me and you for a little while.”

“Mmhm.” The girl nodded, grinning ear-to-ear, oh, she looked so much like her mother, deep blue eyes and auburn hair ( it was more of a browny shift for Alula, though ). Atlas gave a little grin as he looked up at her, before letting out a little chuckle.

“Gosh, Lu.” He murmured, closing his eyes, “I’m so glad you were born.” It had been lonely, awfully lonely-- without nana, or uncle Michael-- it was unbearable, it took two years, but eventually, he gained a companion in the new addition to the family. The four-year-old raised her hands, squishing his face as she giggled.

_“I see you’ve been well.”_ A calm tone reaches his ears-- and Atlas’ head whips around to look to the source, eyes wide, Lu’s gaze followed, the teenager that stood before them simply gave a smile and tilted his head-- it was a smile that reached his eyes, Atlas noticed, and excitement bubbled in his chest.

“Gregory.” He greeted, dipping his head a little as the teen moved closer, a pale, semi-opaque hand raising to ruffle his hair, “It’s been-- it’s been a long time.”

_“Six years.”_ Greg counted, _“But… you know that I wouldn’t have come back with no reason, do you?_ ” He stated then, looking at him with a concerned expression; no matter what face he pulled on, Atlas noticed one thing.

Greg’s eyes **never** changed from their droopy stare.

“...Dream stuff?” Atlas asked then, gently pushing Alula’s head to settle on his shoulder, Greg nodded, looking at the little girl in his arms before looking back at him, Atlas closed his eyes, trying to think, “...Gramps?” He added, and he bites the inside of his cheek when the other nodded-- he knew this was coming, there had to be a day where he’d come face-to-face to the man in purple.

“Why?” He questioned then, looking directly at the ghost, Gregory went silent, turning his head to ponder what he should say ( Gregory was never one to speak before thinking things through ), after a moment of deliberation, the blonde turned back to him.

_“He’s… getting gutsy.”_ He started, _“I fear he might try to usurp my power, and… it feels like he’s not all there, Atlas-- it might be because of his remnant being split, but-- but I think he might have splintered himself further.”_ He admitted, _“To sum it up… I think that if you’re there, there’s a better chance of him staying put-- because with you… I’m sure that whatever power he has now will be sapped, but I didn’t want to endanger you by actually taking you there, so…”_

“You want to tether my dreams to the hell.” Atlas finished. Greg nodded then, closing his eyes, Atlas could tell he didn’t want to resort to this, he wanted William isolated and alone-- so putting him, who has deep ties, with that man…

“Okay!” He stated suddenly, pulling forth a cheerful expression, “I’ll do it.” He beamed as the teenager looked to him, a little surprised, Alula glanced up at him, entirely perplexed, “Just… keep Lu outta this, ‘kay? I-- I don’t want her to cross paths with Afton, and… keep this a secret from mum and dad.”

_“...As you wish.”_ The teenager spoke then, _“...If you need, I can always bring back-up of your choice.”_ He offered, _“I fear if you’re left with him for long enough, he may try something, should he feel gutsy enough.”_

“Like hell he will.” Atlas replied, reaching out to take Greg by the hand, “You got yourself a deal, Golden Boy.”

Gregory nodded to that, _“...So, tonight?”_

“Tonight.” Atlas stated firmly.

\---

Purple eyes stare almost sharply at the clock; 11:55 PM, almost time for his own personal hell to begin once more. He wasn’t sure what that little brat had planned for him, but he knew it was going to be difficult ( it was Gregory after all, the most insufferable of them all, William wished he would have just died quietly ). A scarred hand runs through tousled brown hair as he taps his pen on the desk-- waiting, planning-- he wondered just what would be different tonight.

Whatever it was, he was prepared, or so he thought-- he spent four years in this office, and he spent long enough figuring out how each enemy worked ( not to mention, as he found, there were layers to this stupid hell )-- it was annoying, but he did spend time navigating and figuring things out whenever his shifts were done.

He wasn’t sure just how many layers there were; it was hell, so he assumed there would be seven, or nine. Not like he knew-- this was designed to trap him with no way out ( so he was guaranteed a rather fun stay in Gregory’s personal space ).

_“Mister Afton.”_ An almost taunting, grating voice sounded out; William’s eyes narrowed and focused on the teenager leaning on the door to the office-- he had half a mind to shut the door and split him in two, but he steels himself, _“You seem as cranky as ever.”_

**“What is it that you want, Gregory.”** Voice curt, straight to the point, the teenager rolled black eyes as he stood tall, hands tucked neatly in his hoodie pockets as he meandered over, William leaned back in his seat, fingers twitching, itching to grab the boy by his neck and twist.

_“You seemed to be rather lonely here, despite the abundance of creations you helped make.”_ Gregory teased simply, one hand snaking out to place itself flat on his desk, black eyes shut to a half-lidded, almost mocking gaze, and the blonde tilted his head, _“So I thought I’d bring a little friend-- of course, it’s impossible for you to try and hurt him.”_

**“Him?”** William echoed, finding it in himself to give a smirk, **“My, Gregory, I didn’t know you thought of me so.”** Sharp tongue moving quick, the brunette folded his arms, crossing one leg over the other, **“I’d have thought you’d be busy _mindlessly_ working to make sure I truly wither away here.”**

_“Oh, believe me, sir, this gift I’m giving is in no way **good**.”_ Gregory replied, pulling back from the desk, _“I’d say it’s a hindrance on your part, but you’ll have to deal with it, not like you’ll be leaving anytime soon, hm?”_ He stepped back, holding his arms out, _“You might have dealt with robots, but tell me, Mr. Afton…”_

William watches him almost disappear as the clock struck twelve-- his voice echoing and ringing in his ears as his eyes focus on the new face before him, sat at the desk with his elbows leaning on it-- grinning up at him almost wickedly.

_“...But how will you fare with a **child** you cannot **kill**?”_

Atlas tilted his head to the side, grinning at the look of sheer confusion and alarm that came to William’s face.

“Hi, gramps!” He greeted, “Thought you’d be a skeleton by now, but you just seem to keep surprising me.”

His expression twists then; to mirror the look of childish enjoyment with a hint of sinister intentions.

**_“Let’s see how you’ll survive with me on the watch, too, shall we?”_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two kids bully a grown man (real) (not clickbait)
> 
> fr tho!! sorry this took so long yall, i was gettin swamped with college work and shit, but!! we're on the grind for ucn and the expansive lore i have for it SO i hope youre buckled in because we not only have a new face but now we have more of the eggplant and the kid who bullies him
> 
> as for the layout of ucn... let's just say there's floors to this fuckin' building because gregory is a massively petty bitch, but he did make it fair, afton's just too stupid to figure out how to get through them immediately. which is good because haha suffer you prunely little imp
> 
> thanks for reading! hope you'll enjoy <3


	43. Creepy Crawlies.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The main layer.

“So~.” The pre-teen started, taking a seat on the desk of the office, “Mr. Afton, if you would be so kind,” Venom off of his tongue, clear mocking of the adult, who glares back at him with a violent gaze, “could you explain to me just what you do here?” Atlas had decided it was best to piss off the man as much as possible-- after all, he cannot hurt him-- a chance like this may never happen again.

William narrowed his eyes some form, arms folded as he stood from his chair, he circled around the wooden construct, still watching the eleven-year-old.

**“What do you think, Fisher?”** The man stated simply, **“I do what a night guard normally does. Though, a normal night guard doesn’t have to deal with fifty of his creations coming after him in intervals.”** He hissed, Atlas snickered, tilting his head at the other’s misery.

“It’s what you deserve, old man.” He stated, eyes going to the clock, 12 AM; the night begins, “How does this game work?”

**“Well, if you’re so curious, there are about seven layers to this hell, creative of the Fredbear ghost, I know.”** The clear sarcasm in William’s voice causes Atlas to smirk, the boy knows that said ghost is watching, and just for that, he’ll probably make it worse, **“Miscellaneous animatronics are assigned to this level, whilst other animatronics go to their respective area; say, the Funtimes to their layer, the classic line to theirs… the _Nightmares_ to the _bedroom_.”**

William smirked back when he saw Atlas freeze at the mention of the Nightmares, and the blue-eyed boy turned to glare at him. That burning hatred; that resolve to hold himself back and not tear at the man before him… William could see it.

For someone with his remnant, the man could surprisingly see his son in Atlas, Michael always hated him, too, not like he cared, really.

**“This hell is made up of what Gregory can remember with the help of others.”** William added then, **“More layers can be clearer than the others, especially the events in them…”**

Atlas had begun to fiddle with the camera then, before his eyes raised to show interest, if only a little bit, William let a small smile come to his face-- he got him.

“Spaghetti bear’s coming to the vent.” Atlas spoke then as a resounding cackle filled the air, William didn't even hesitate; hitting a fist against the button to close it as he chuckled.

**“Why help the man who killed and caused your bloodline to become tainted?”** He asked then, Atlas clicked his tongue.

“Because I’m here to monitor how you do and make sure you don’t fuck up anything, asshole.” Atlas stated then, eyes finding his, the eleven year old stared whilst his great-grandfather watched him, they both flinched when they heard the sound of cymbals crashing, and Atlas just gives William this wide-eyed stare.

“Spiderman?” He whispered, William just squinted, utterly confused, but nodded. Atlas just went from energised to dead tired in two seconds flat-- had this been normal circumstances, William would have laughed at him, “Stupid fucking Music Man--”

**“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”** William asked then, opening the vent door as Atlas switched the music for the Marionette, the pre-teen looked at him then, and opened his mouth.

“Where do you think I _got_ it from, asshole?” There’s a beat of silence between them, and Atlas could already hear Gregory losing it from the office room that controls those robots.

**“...You know what,”** William started, remembering Nova’s teen years in the Fright, **“that’s fair.”**

Atlas fiddled with the camera again, switching the vent doors and calling the animatronics towards that dead end, he didn't speak, focusing a little as he bounced his leg on the floor. The older man watched him, as though he was looking for weakness to exploit.

His eyes go to the time-- 3 AM.

“Oh, by the way.” Atlas spoke then, “What you said about the other layers… do-- do they replay moments from the memories? Since you said they’re made up from what Greg remembers, and-- and then some.” William lets a little hum out, before snapping his fingers and nodding.

At that, Atlas’ eyes went back down to the camera again, switching between them all before putting it down.

**Got him,** William thought again.

He _may_ just be his ticket out.

**“I’ve only ever been up to the layer above this one.”** William informed, **“It seems to be the establishment from the 80s, if I recall.”** He explained, Atlas listened, frowning as he did, the older man seemed to realise that this little boy seemed to want to know the truth of what just happened.

William Afton smirked, stepping closer to the desk, and leaning over to lock eyes with his grandchild, Atlas shrinked in a little, trying to focus on anything else. But the man in purple tilted his head at him, before laughing a little.

**“Do you want to know what happened with this cursed legacy?”** He inquired, watching Atlas try to avert his eyes-- a clear reluctant yes-- and the man drew back, chuckling a little at him.

His great-grandson had some **very** funny tendencies, it fit him. It was probably something Atlas got from his daughter, now that William thought about it.

**“Oh!”** Speaking of Norah, the man remembers something, **“You can also see how your grandmother’s childhood was like, too.”** At that, Atlas looked to him, eyebrows furrowed.

Ah… Atlas missed his grandmother, William could tell. If only he knew…

“...Get t’ six and then we’ll talk.” Comes a begrudging mumble, William let out a small hum, looking quite pleased then.

So they got to work; between the chaos of using sounds and trying to keep Music Man at bay, as well as those crawling within the vents, two pairs of hands were definitely better than one pair ( though William hated having to work with a child-- a child who _wanted_ him to suffer, no less ).

The sound of the bell chime let a small piece of tension out-- but there was still tension. After all, who wouldn’t be tense with a murderer in the room? Atlas clicked his tongue, placing down the tablet as he stared daggers at William, clearly waiting.

The man chuckled, a fist raising to his mouth to stifle it a little, ah, kids; _always_ so eager to learn sometimes.

**“I suppose you want to know how to get to the second layer, hm?”** Will tilted his head, half-lidded purple eyes watching the eleven-year-old, he gets a raised eyebrow in response-- as if he was asking the obvious ( and well, he was ).

“You know where it is?” Atlas asked back, and the man nodded, gesturing for him to follow as he left the office, Atlas got up, trailing him with his hands in his pockets. His eyes danced across the surrounding area as he did; and Atlas gave a small smile to himself as he followed William to the next layer.

_Little did William know_ , Atlas thinks. It would make it easier on him when the time comes, and thus it would be easier for Gregory to find the crack that was letting the pieces of leftover remnant through. Hopefully, he can patch that up and collect what was let out.

Sneakers hit the floor as they continued to move, and William began to talk, **“You know, Atlas.”** He started, **“I’ve always wondered just how much time has passed since I last saw you; you were very small, back then, very… feeble. You’ve grown a lot.”**

Atlas proceeds to tune him out. He did _not_ have to listen to his murderous grandfather-- a walking, talking fashion disaster of purple-- speak of him as though they were close. As William keeps chattering, Atlas grips something within his hoodie pocket, giving a small smile.

Within his clasped hand was a pin, a pin of a Red Lake.

He was on a mission. Atlas’ eyes lift back to William’s head, as they had slowed to a stop near the bathroom hallway, the child watches William shove the wall-- and he jumped a little when it gave in, revealing another room with stairs.

**“Well?”** William asked then, looking at him, **“Shall we get going?”**

“..Yeah.” Atlas replied.

And so the two climbed to the second layer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wee woo wee woo bastard time where these two spend some ~quality family time~ together whilst each having ulterior motives
> 
> runs in the family /j
> 
> i wont be posting an update next week due to specific things going on irl!! i hope yall understand
> 
> anyways!! thanks for reading this chapter, it's a little rushed a bit messy but trust me, you'll see what's up with this soon enough ;D


	44. Toy Tales.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atlas gets a history lesson.
> 
> Content & Trigger Warnings for neck injuries, eye injuries and springlock deaths.

“...So this is Freddy Jr’s.” Atlas observed, head turning to look around as the two stood at the entrance to the building; after climbing up stairs for what seemed like forever ( Atlas thought of it as comical, stairs were like the devil ), they had gotten to the second layer. Seeing as it was a while until the night shift, he could gather that those memories the man spoke of would be playing. He steps around the front room, peeking into the typically desolate pizzeria--

\--and sucking in a breath when he sees that for once, it was full of life; though fabricated and unreal, it still felt like for once, he was walking into a place of joy.

**“It’s quite homely, is it not?”** He hears William say, and he clamped his mouth shut to form a glare at the voice, turning his head to stare daggers at him, the old man snickered, covering his own mouth as he did, **“This specifically replays the day a massive event happens.”**

Atlas wracked his brain for a moment, and then his glare got fiercer.

“The children.”

William nods, looking quite pleased, **“You aren’t as ignorant as I thought, though, then again… you _do_ have my remnant.”**

“Keep talking and I’ll shove you into Mangle’s mouth.” Atlas uttered bitterly, turning his gaze back to the scene before him and softening; innocence, happiness, that was all he saw. His head moved then, looking to the Prize Corner-- and he felt his heart leap into his throat.

_Nana_. He thought, watching the memory of a teenager taking a young child to get a gift. His hands clench, and he walks into the main room fully, William following behind him.

**“You know,”** the old man started, **“I didn’t even know if she was truly my daughter.”** He revealed, Atlas glanced to him, **“I was a widower back in the 80s, dear boy. Still am-- I lost my dear wife to an illness shortly after the twins were born, I didn’t do anything for five years, but one night…”** He trailed off, watching the scene, **“Well, I suppose nothing would have changed if I gained a child or not.”** He hummed, **“Though…”**

“Though, what?” Atlas stated, “Spit it out, you old codger.”

**“Norah was _different_ to my legitimate children.”** He stated, **“She was born after the death of her cousin, since I ingested remnant after the incident… she was born with such strange eyes.”** He stated, walking closer to inspect the girl, Atlas reluctantly followed.

“So, the purple eyes were due to remnant?” He asked him, and William chuckled, nodding.

**“Indeed it was, my boy.”** He chimed, **“There are some in this world who are capable of communicating with spirits naturally-- others must consume their agony and use it. This was all part of an experiment I was doing with my old friend.”**

“... _Ew, did you eat the fucking blood?_ ” The pre-teen stated, staring at him with wide eyes, the look William gave him was incredulous ( oh, how Atlas loved pissing him off ).

**“What the fuck?”** The older man whispered, **“Is-- is _that_ what you got from that?”** The ‘snrk’ that left the young boy’s mouth just made William look so tired. He was messing with him. _Goddammit_.

His attention is then pulled from the boy towards something else; and a dark smile comes to his face, **“Well, now.”** He pulls himself to stand straight, and watches the memory of the boy in gold leave his cousin to tail the group that drew his attention, **“I believe you’re about to witness something rather important.”**

“I’m gonna vomit all over you.” Atlas threatened idly, walking past him to reluctantly look at the incident which caused the start of the killer’s downfall, William followed him, and the two came to the Parts & Service area.

Atlas places his hand on the door, taking a moment to let out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding, and opened it, walking into the scene. William stood behind him, fist near his mouth to stifle his chuckling.

Oh, how he **loved** this memory.

The door out snapped shut behind them, and Atlas swallowed down his nerves in order to witness it ( he had to see it-- he needed to see it, to fill in the blanks of the remnant given ). He scrunched the fabric of his hoodie with his fists, clenching his jaw as he watched the past repeat.

The rabbit-clad killer had actually started with Gregory first; a wrench to the skull had sufficed with knocking him down, but Atlas wondered what the point of that was. With the oldest incapacitated, he had turned his attention to the rest of the children, all frantic and worried-- and Atlas felt his throat go dry when he sees William reach for Elijah.

He watches the poor boy squirm and struggle, but then he hears the sudden crack emitted from him-- and Atlas covered his mouth in shock.

“You--”

**“He was always so weak and feeble, that Elijah.”** William stated, **“Osteoporosis. A snapped neck was the easiest way for him to go-- no blood, no problem.”**

“That’s sick.” Atlas heaved, covering his mouth, but he had to keep watching-- seeing the man move for the raven-haired boy, Oscar, who bit and scratched at him, or tried to, at least. He, much like Elijah, had a quick death-- one where blood was spilt, this time.

The scar across Oscar’s throat now made some form of sense, Atlas thinks-- it’s what he could remember from William’s remnant ( nightmares taken form, his death reflected onto him; painful and slow ). He heaved a little again, watching Oscar’s body drop next to Elijah’s; one body with a twisted neck, the other with an injured neck.

They matched, Atlas thought morbidly, but shook his head and turned his gaze elsewhere, watching the man advance towards the two remaining children, Penelope was wrenched away from Catherine, screaming and cursing at the killer as loud as she could ( to draw attention? To wake Gregory up? Atlas didn’t know ). But she’s tugged forward, and golden-fabric fingers wrapped around her throat.

Asphyxiation, Atlas realised, and he closed his eyes and covered his ears as he tried to avoid the sound of Penelope losing breath. She didn’t last long, anyways. So now there was one.

...Or, well, two, if you counted the unconscious teenager on the floor, Atlas could only squint at Greg’s body.

William must have hit him like a fucking _truck_ , he decided.

Anyways, his gaze turned back to the scene. His hands linked together over his mouth as he finally watched the rabbit walk towards the quivering Catherine-- and a knife raised to her eye.

Atlas shut his own when he hears the sudden squelch of the knife stabbing in. The choked gasps and cries ringing in his ears before it fell silent, he refused to open them; but he could hear shuffling, the man was moving around, taking the bodies with him.

One… two… three… four…

... **Five**?

Atlas suddenly had a grim realisation as his head swivelled to the man next to him, eyes wide, the purple-eyed killer simply smiled back; a sinister grin that was enjoying the boy’s panic.

_“You didn’t.”_ Atlas whispered.

**“Oh, I did.”** The man replied.

Atlas’ gaze turned to the golden suit in the corner, and he noticed the black eyes opening-- and then growing large in panic, the killer seemed to speak, but his ears didn’t register just what he said as the locks snapped.

“Oh, God.” The young boy mumbled, looking to the man next to him and stepping back, “Sick-- you’re _sick_ , what the fuck--”

**“Hmm,”** a thoughtful hum emits from the man as he watched, “ **I do suppose it seemed a bit extra… but’s a fitting death, especially for him.”** He chimed, **“Lucky for him, his sister was waiting, anyhow.”**

“I’m going to kneecap you.” Atlas grumbled, though he didn’t want to start a fight **now**.

William can only chuckle at him as he moves to leave.

**“I would like to see you try, poppet.”**

The boy groaned, gritting his teeth in a sneer as he directed his gaze to the back of the man, he cannot believe him ( he’s the powerless one here, last he checked ). But he quells himself, and moves after him with a hum. Turning right-- they head to the office, to where Atlas gripped the sleeve of his hoodie, blue eyes focusing on the desk as he comes to a stop near the main entrance to the room.

He could have sworn he saw something in that chair; a familiar smile, but at the same time, it was something he was quickly forgetting and it frustrated him to no end. William gave a hum as he placed his hand on the wood of the desk, looking at the clock.

The chime of midnight strikes.

**“Get ready, boy.”** The older man stated, **“We’ve no doors stopping them now.”**

“I’m not blind, you asshole.” Atlas stated bitterly, picking up the flashlight on the desk as William focuses on the tablet screen, “I’ve faced worse.”

**“How bold.”** William chimed, sitting in the chair, **“Alright, then, let’s see how you fare with these things.”**

And so the night began.

And oh, what a night it was. It started out fair; driving away the plastic perpetrators with a mask ( for William, they seemed to recognise Atlas as a child ), though he did have to quell the Marionette with the music box. It was here that Atlas could see that these robots had character-- ideals of their own despite the dreary circumstances that they were in ( he could relate specifically with Toy Freddy-- video games were pretty fun, but it sucked when a game over occurs ).

But slowly, between the Toys and the Withereds appearing to try and kill the man who ruined it all, Atlas wondered just how his other grandfather fared against the beings of the night. His hands raised to rub at his eyes, and then he stopped.

The sound of Pop Goes The Weasel.

He looked to the time-- 5:58 AM, William shared a glance with him, and Atlas watched his eyes flicker up before his own vision was covered.

Atlas hears a mechanical hiss, before he hears William laugh, clearly amused.

**“Oh, my.”** Teasing tone evident as the man in purple leans against the desk, locking eyes with the Marionette, **“I didn’t think _you’d_ still be here.”**

Atlas makes a muffled wheeze of confusion-- but against the lack of sight with the spindly arm of the puppet wrapped around him-- he wasn’t sure what was going on.

**“Time’s ticking, Songbird,”** a finger raises to point to the clock, **“you know I won’t hurt my dear grandson. I’m not allowed to hurt anyone, after all.”** William snickered as he watched the Marionette stare him down.

The bell rings, and Atlas’ vision becomes light again as the Marionette moves their hands away from him-- spindly fingers brushing through his hair as they do ( for some reason, it made him calm a little ). William smirked, still leaning against the desk as he watched the robot limp away, and then he looked to Atlas.

**“Well, that’s one layer done rather quickly.”** He chirped, **“I didn’t even realise time went by so fast here.”** At that, he held up a key from the desk, giving a small hum, **“I’m quite excited to see the next layer, boy, shall we get going?”**

Atlas frowned a little, mildly annoyed on how he brushed that off so quickly-- sure, the night went by fast ( he didn’t know they did, was Gregory behind this? ), but to want to leave immediately…

Without his input, William was on the move, with the boy trailing behind, almost annoyed at the fact that the old man is doing as he pleased, they continued to walk, until they stopped near the main stage of the pizzeria-- Atlas squinted, taking note of a keyhole that he swore wasn’t there before.

**“Well, now.”** William inserted it, twisting the metal and pushing open the door that formed as he did, **“Shall we get going, poppet?”**

“...Yeah.” Atlas took a breath, watching him begin to trek up the stairs, a hand raises to brush his hair a little-- and his fingers run across plastic snapped around his light brown locks of hair. He unsnapped the clip, pulling it from his hair to inspect it before smiling.

A bird decal on the hairclip. He looked behind him to meet with eyes a lighter blue-- and he smiled when he sees the girl give him a cheeky smile, a wink and a thumbs up-- before turning back and snapping the clip under his hoodie ( on his shirt; where William could not see it ) before running after the man.

Delancy Coriander, the ghost of the second layer, had given him a _gift_.

_It would be wrong of him not to use it sooner or later, after all._

And so Atlas leads the rabbit further up the hole; to the third layer made of advanced tech-- an unfamiliar level for the both of them.

Quite frankly, the boy was excited for it, the explorer within flaring to life for a moment.

What awaited them within the third layer will surely be a fun time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG COLLEGE WAS BEATING ME WITH A METAL PIPE,,,, it was a struggle to write this chapter too, between having to write the eggplant man talking (which is ew i hate him dfnsghfg), the murders occuring and how to detail stuff, i was going a little haywire, i had debated on making the second layer two chapters, but then decided that since not much happens during the nightshift that it'll just be a part of the story (which is probably poorly rushed towards the end im so sorry shdfghfh)
> 
> but hey we got a delancy moment, if only for the ending, but don't you worry, she'll be back! anyhow, thank you all for reading and i hope you can forgive me for the hiatus sdfhgfhdg


End file.
